


homebound

by joseyposey



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Enjoy!, M/M, and getting to know each other, and levi is super salty, and picking flowers, u guys they're just fucking hiking, wandering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:03:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11655621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joseyposey/pseuds/joseyposey
Summary: Levi is but a simple pedlar, about to set out on what may turn out to be his last journey across the mountains.Enter a shady, scruffy-looking boy with a false name who desperately needs his help to get home.They make for unlikely travelling companions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hiya! i've had this story sitting in my mind for some time now and recently i've been getting more and more excited about it! and so i thought it was time to share it with you. it's a little different from what i've written in the past, as it has a fantasy setting, but i'm sure it's going to be fun! 
> 
> the setting is sort of inspired by rousseau's _confessions_ , and the wanderings described therein (read: _inspired_ , not based on lmao that would be insane). my boys will keep those kind of wild shenanigans and misdemeanours to a minimum (hopefully). 
> 
> anyways, i hope you like it!

It all came down to luck. Bad luck. And rain, lots of it.

They had been travelling down the road the tree of them, slipping through the mud, barely seeing anything for the dark and the rain. In hindsight, it would have been better for them stop for the night and rest, but they were anxious and afraid, and figured it was best to keep moving, to get as far as they could while they still were able to.

The river worming its way next to them was swollen with the rains that had been thundering down upon them for days, ever since they had escaped the city limits, and so the roar of the rain and the roar of the river bled together, making them indistinguishable from one another.

They were exhausted, cold, scared, and hungry. Which was why they did not spot the riders before it was too late, and they were already upon them.

It was bad luck that saw Eren struck down, unconscious, and into the river.

It wasn’t luck, precisely, that saw to it that he survived that ordeal.

He woke up some hours later in the grey morning light, hurting all over, lying by the bank of the river, bruised and chilled to the bone. The rain had finally let up.

He was alive.

And alone.

____

 

In the town of Raven’s Roost, in the kingdom of Trost, night is falling. The streets are quiet, uncannily so. Raven’s Roost, usually a bustling place of commerce, now is not. At the moment, the town is not an ideal place for trade, to the vexation of a few.

A man comes stomping down the street and enters an inn called The Gilded Horse. He drops himself down by the bar and sets down the case he has been carrying in a despondent manner.

“The usual,” he says to the barkeeper, slumping over the counter.

“You got it.”

There aren’t many people at the inn, a handful or so, and most of them locals. With the end of the festival that was held recently, most travellers have left. And no wonder: no fun to be had, and no business to be had either.

“So, where are you off to now, Levi?” says the barkeeper with a smile. “You're getting ready to travel, right?”

“Oh, yes. I'm going to Neverwinter. First light.” 

“Neverwinter, in Shiganshina? How come?” 

Levi shrugs and reaches for the tankard that is put before him.

“Big money. People there are filthy rich and they'll buy almost anything. And they don’t have stupid fucking festivals.”

The barkeeper ignores Levi’s bitter tone.

“But isn’t it dangerous to go there?”

The pedlar laughs, raising an eyebrow at them.

“What, because of the shifters? Give me a break, Hange. If you believe in that bullshit maybe you should go there too – you'd fit right in.”

The barkeeper, Hange, puts their chin in their hand, tilting their head a little.

“Word is they have been tightening the security lately…You don't believe it?” 

Levi scoffs.

“No way. It's a huge joke if you ask me. Nothing but a myth the king’s fuelling in order to control the people.”

Levi, though still miffed, feels a little better thinking about something else than his failing business.

“Uh, excuse me?” A figure edges in on them, a hood pulled suspiciously far down in their face. “Excuse me, sir,” they say, “I couldn't help but overhear you talking about Neverwinter.” 

Levi sends the stranger a sceptical look. He’s not in the mood to make friends tonight.

“Mind your own goddamn business,” he warns icily.

The figure only hesitates a moment, before taking off their hood. It's a young man, pretty, with matted, brown hair, and shining green eyes. His skin is tanned, a sign of days spent outside in the sun. Levi notices, too, several cuts and bruises on his face.

“I'm really sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to pry. It's just that I'm headed for Neverwinter myself. Although,” he halts, and sends Levi a sheepish look, “I don't know the way.”

Levi, taking a long sip of his drink, considers the young man silently.

“Please – sir – could I come with you? I won't cause any trouble for you. And I offer my assistance in any way I can.”

Levi and Hange exchange looks; Hange is grinning.

The traveller snorts and shakes his head. He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“No way, kid. I'm not dragging your scrawny ass with me across the mountain.”

The young man looks crestfallen; Levi can practically see the light go out in his eyes.    

“Please! You’re the only one I’ve met so far who knows the way through the mountain pass.” He adds, “And I'm used to travelling on foot! I won't slow you down, I swear!”

The kid is inching closer, hands clasped together, desperate and begging, but Levi has never been one for charity.

After this failure of a day, all he desired from this evening was to have a beer and relax for a while before retiring to the flea infested bed he has rented upstairs, but here is a filthy street urchin pestering him and begging for sympathy that Levi does not carry even an ounce of in his mortal being.

He puts down his tankard with a loud bang, and turns around in his seat to face the newcomer. Levi speaks slowly, just in case the boy is hard of hearing, or perhaps mentally challenged, or maybe both – who knows.

He says: “Listen. I travel alone. And I would never bring a green kid like you with me. So please. Leave me. The fuck alone.”

The boy takes offense at that. There is a quick shift in his mien from desperate deference to defiance. He seems suddenly a different person.

“I’m not green, _sir_ ,” he bites out.

For a short moment Levi is thrown. However, he does not have the energy or the interest to care about this person, and so finds that the best way to deal with this issue, as with most issues, is swift dismissal.

“Whatever kid. Get lost before I haul your ass outta here.”

“Technically, Levi,” the barkeeper butts in, “you don’t get to do that, because you don’t own this place.” They grin. “I do.”

The young man’s attention shifts to Hange instead, and the anger fades from his expression as it is replaced by hope and gratitude.

Hange laughs and promptly ignores the daggers Levi is intently glowering at them.

“Please have a seat, friend. What’s your name?”

The strange boy freezes – not so discreetly – before he moves to seat himself beside Levi.

As he sinks down onto the edge of the tall chair he stammers,

“I’m – uhm – my name is E–Emile.”

Levi rolls his eyes so hard it hurts.

“Forgot your name, kid?”

Hange’s lips twitch as _Emile_ flushes.

“Nice to meet you, Emile. I’m Hange and I run this place. And this here is Levi. He’s a pedlar.”

Emile turns to the older man.

“You’re a pedlar? Is that why you’re going to Neverwinter?”

Levi grits his teeth.

“Yes.”

“What kind of stuff do you sell?”

Levi refuses to look at him.

“Herbs, potions, charms, and the like. Will you shut up? I’m not taking you with me.”

Emile scowls and purses his lips in defiance and he is _still there,_ existing right beside Levi, being a goddamned nuisance.

What an insolent piece of shit. As if Levi owes him anything.

So Levi puts on the most intimidating air he can muster and leans into the boy’s space.            

“I’ll say this one more time. _Scram.”_

This time he is successful. Although Emile keeps the scowl he slowly, reluctantly, without another word, slinks away and out the door.

When he is gone, Levi lets out a heavy sigh. He massages his temples, feeling a headache approaching. He directs the lingering annoyance at the (he thinks) unassuming barkeeper.

“You could try to be a little friendlier with my customers, you know.”

“First of all, that kid don’t own a goddamned dime, I can assure you, and second, _just what the fuck do you think you are doing?_ ”

Hange, still grinning, “I’m getting you a companion.”

Levi, exhausted, and still endeavouring to stave off the oncoming headache,

“Does it look like I want a companion, Hange? Do I strike you as a person who would want to have a companion?”

“As a matter of fact – yes. I think you could use a companion,” they maintain. “Come on, it would be nice to have some company, eh? And even if he’s boring at least he’s pretty to look at, am I right?”

Struck dumb by frustration and incredulity, Levi can only stare at the barkeeper.

“I don’t deserve this,” he says, and leaves for his room upstairs where he finally finds the peace that he so desperately needs and a good night’s rest – or at least, that was what he’d had in mind.

But lately things do not seem to be going Levi’s way. He must have done something to anger the gods because they have evidently decided to all come together to exact punishment upon him.

That night Levi has an unsettling dream; someone is moving around his room in the dark, looking for something. Only, it isn’t a dream.

Levi is a light sleeper, a trait he has acquired from always being on foot, sleeping outside, or in less respectable places, where the chances of getting robbed or murdered in your sleep are more than probable. 

When he wakes, disoriented, he hears the sound of the door clicking shut – the door that he vividly remembers having locked before turning in a few hours ago.

He is out of bed in record time, shoving his feet into his boots, and grabbing his trusted knife from underneath the pillow. His gaze falls immediately on his case, which is open and obviously tampered with.

“Shit!”

He stumbles down the stairs of the inn and out into the night, where he sees someone, just then, slipping down a dark alley.

“Oi, get back here!!”

The thief is a fast runner and the streets are dark. Levi's having a hard time keeping up. An excruciating burn soon announces itself in his chest and he curses; yet he tries to speed up.  

Then suddenly, there is a movement up ahead. A figure appears from an alleyway, throwing themselves at the thief, who goes down into the ground with the force of the collision. 

The two figures struggle, but it seems the newcomer, although smaller in stature, has the upper hand; Levi sees them deal a hefty blow to the thief's head that immediately makes them go limp. 

Levi reaches them, in pain, coughing. His saviour is sitting on the ground, hood drawn, looking through the thief's pockets. From their pockets, the person withdraws several phials and satchels that were taken from Levi’s case. Medicinal herbs and ointments worth a small fortune.

“This is yours, right?”

The hood falls back and reveals the person’s face; a bright triumphant smile, green eyes – it's Emile. 

The pedlar is at a loss for words – and breath – he can only stare at the younger man, and the stolen goods he has retrieved, while trying to collect himself. 

Emile, in the meantime, is lifting up a phial with a single blue flower within it. He looks closely at the contents, and his eyes are widening. That is when Levi snatches it from his hands. 

The boy stares up at him, eyes wide with disbelief.

“That's dragonshead!” he all but shouts so that the entire town can hear.  

Levi smacks him over the top of the head, hissing, _“Keep it down!”_ and then, “Hand the rest over to me.”

Levi is surprised and unnerved that the boy knows, not many would be able to tell just from a quick glance.

“That’s an incredibly rare flower,” Emile points out and hands Levi the other stolen goods.

“No shit,” Levi bites out, pocketing his stuff uneasily. He’s still breathing heavily and his chest is still on fire. He wants to get back to the inn as quickly as possible.

“I'm glad it wasn't stolen,” Emile smiles, and gets to his feet, brushing the dust off of his clothes – honestly, with all the filth already on him the act is pointless.

Keeping his distance, Levi glances down at the man passed out on the ground; by no means a small guy, and yet Emile had managed to bring him down and knock him out in a matter of seconds. The very same Emile is standing in front of him now, smiling innocently. 

“Well, thanks I guess.” 

Emile shrugs, innocent smile not so innocent when supplemented by the devilry in his eyes.

“Don’t thank me: make it up to me.”

Levi’s eyebrows shoot up in astonishment.

The nerve. _The audacity._

He’s already turning around.

“Nuh–uh. Nope. Not happening. Forget it.”

But the kid is nothing if not obstinate. He grabs Levi’s arm before he can go anywhere. The pleasant act is dropped altogether as he raises his voice, it is shaking with suppressed emotion.

“I did you a favour, now you do me a favour. It’s only fair – common courtesy, even,” the shit dares to add.

Levi is unfazed by this display. He scoffs and repeats coldly,

“No. No way.”

He watches Emile’s jaw set, the hand not clinging on to Levi’s sleeve is balling up into an angry fist and he is shaking now.

Levi’s eyes land on the man lying unconscious in the dirt, and Levi wonders, fleetingly, how far the kid is willing to go. He is clearly very upset and Levi is not so sure that he wants to learn just how skilled a fighter the strange boy is. Not that fighting Levi would be a good tactic in any way, but Emile looks desperate, and desperate people make unwise decisions.

Eventually, however, Emile averts his gaze, and despite the angry glare that he buries in the dirt, it looks like he is on the brink of tears.

_Oh, come on._

“You don’t understand,” he says in a low voice, not looking Levi in the eye. “I just – I really, _really_ need to get to Neverwinter.” Emile looks up from the dirt and trains his gaze on Levi’s. “It’s very important.”

Either the kid is being earnest, or he is a very talented actor, Levi can’t quite tell. This uncertainty does Emile no favours and it doesn’t change the fact that,

   a) Levi doesn’t like the idea of travelling with anyone – _at all_

   b) he knows nothing about the kid

   c) _Emile’s_ character does not exactly inspire trust, and getting involved with him seems like it’s going to be way more hassle than Levi would ever knowingly invite into his life.

So Levi snatches his arm away from Emile’s grip and turns his back on him. Refusing to look at the kid for a second longer, he starts walking back to the inn, huffing. No way is he going to let anyone, least of all a kid, guilt trip him into doing anything, is what he thinks.

What a ridiculous day. He’s not going to be able to get a wink of sleep, but he’s not concerned about that anymore. Daybreak cannot come any sooner, then he can leave this miserable town behind and be on his way.

The pain in his chest is smouldering, but now that he can feel the shape of the phial sitting safely in his breast pocket he relaxes. Yet, accompanying this feeling of relief is an unwelcome, and uncalled for, pang of guilt.

Why did the kid have to look at him like that?

Levi stops, closes his eyes and curses the gods (again) for letting him be born with a conscience. And, honestly, just what the hell has he done to deserve this unreasonable punishment?

Another heavy sigh leaves him, and _fuck_ is he going to regret this.

His voice cuts through the clear night air:

“Meet me outside the Gilded Horse at dawn. If you’re not there, I’m leaving without you.”

He turns to the kid who stares at him, shocked.

In the next moment, Levi is watching as Emile is actually, literally, prostrating himself on the ground before him.

His voice is small and shaky.

“Thank you so much. I will never forget this.”

It is disconcerting, if anything. And it makes Levi wonder (despite himself) just why it is so important for him to reach Neverwinter.

________

 

When Levi walks outside the next day, after a night spent more awake than asleep, he’s not sure what to expect. He hopes, however, that there will be no scruffy looking boy out there waiting for him, and that maybe – just maybe – he had been part of a really bad dream.

Unfortunately, this is not the case. Stepping outside, the first thing his eyes fall upon is a huddled form. It sits nestled against a barrel by the wall of the inn, and it sports an unmistakable mop of brown matted hair.

The kid has been sleeping outside, not surprisingly. For a moment, Levi is tempted to just leave him there, but again there is this issue he is having with his conscience...

“Oi. You.”

When Levi prods it with a foot, the bundle moves, and from it emerges Emile’s face; green, sleepy eyes settle on Levi. Looking at him, Levi catches himself (again) feeling sorry for the kid.

The boy looks confused at first, but then his eyes widen as he gains consciousness, and he springs to his feet, too quickly by the looks of it, as he has to support himself on the wall in order not to topple over into the muddy street.

“Good morning! Um – Levi, sir!”

As he stares at the kid, who looks like a complete _filthy_ mess, Levi realises that he has probably made one of the worst decisions in his life and the brief feeling of sympathy is snuffed out in a second. Annoyed, he clicks his tongue.

“Come on.” He turns to walk back into the inn.

“Aren’t we going?”

“I’m assuming you haven’t had anything to eat yet? You can’t travel on an empty stomach.”

At the mentioning of food, Emile’s stomach gives a loud growl. It makes the kid colour with embarrassment, or perhaps shame.

The kid is scrawny, and when watching him shovelling down sausages and eggs a little later, Levi has to wonder how long it has been since he had a proper meal.

“Can’t afford to eat?”

Emile halts long enough to say,

“I… don’t have a lot of money.”

“Really. I would never have guessed.”

Emile pauses as a sudden look of confliction settles in his features.

“I – I can’t pay for this.”

“I can,” says Levi and takes a swig of his tankard, eyes on the urchin who still looks conflicted. “But don’t worry, you’ll make it up to me, _Emile._ ”

He leans into Emile’s space.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you seem to know your herbs. You recognised that plant pretty quickly yesterday.”

“The dragonshead, you mean?”

“Will you keep your voice down?”

Levi knows that the kid is pulling his leg when he sees the snarky grin on his face. He grits his teeth, and places a firm palm on Emile’s neck, drawing him closer. Immediately, the boy tenses up. Levi has lowered his voice considerably and he says,

“Listen. You’ll be helping me gather herbs as we cross the mountain. You will aid me in finding that flower – which you will stop mentioning by name as of today if you still want me to bring you with – and you will not get any share of the profits when I’m selling that shit in Neverwinter. Understand?”

Emile looks at him with green, anxious eyes.

“That’s – we don’t have time for that!”

Levi doesn’t like the look in the boy’s eyes and he withdraws his hand.

“What, you in a hurry?”

“Yes.”

Emile has forgotten about the food he so voraciously devoured a minute earlier, and is now staring Levi down. He is trembling.

“Well, you’ll have to match my pace, kiddo. I have a business to maintain.”

Emile presses his lips together and doesn’t say anything else. Levi can see frustrated tears welling up in his eyes again, but pretends not to. With the bruises on his face, and his worried look, he cuts a pathetic figure.           

After a while Emile asks in a quiet voice,

“The main road… how long would it be to take the main road instead?”

Levi snorts.

“The main road is a no-go, usually because of bandits, but now I hear it's suffered from the heavy rains we've been having. You gotta go the long way round the Lady’s Lap, which would take you about a month or so."

“And the mountain pass?”

“Three weeks, max. Could be quicker. Depends on the weather, really,” he shoots Emile a look, “and whether or not I can find what I need.”

That seems to relax Emile somewhat, but then Levi asks,

“Who did you fight?”

The urchin turns to him, shocked. “What?”

“Your face. Looks like you were in a fight.”

“Oh,” Emile lifts a hand to his face, fingers brushing against a relatively big cut, as if he’s only just discovering it. His eyes dart from Levi’s. “This – this wasn’t a fight.”

Levi doesn’t have the patience or the interest to wrestle the truth from him and so lets him off with that. He sneers, and finishes his meal. Emile doesn’t.

They spend the next few hours getting supplies for their journey. They don’t want to bring too much as they will have to carry it with them. But Emile, it turns out, has no earthly possessions whatsoever. No bedroll, no change of clothes – no warm clothes to speak of – no tools of any kind, and - of course - no money. Levi is struggling to understand how the kid has been getting by.

Realising that he has to provide Emile with these necessities, Levi is already in a black mood, and it’s not even midday yet. Adding to that, the mongrel doesn’t even have the grace to thank him; instead he is being impatient, jittery, and strangely quiet.                      

__________

 

They finally set out, and it feels good to get out of the annoyingly quiet, dirty town. It feels good to be on the move once again, a forward movement, a progress of some kind, a tonic for the body and the mind.

It’s a hot day. The sun is beating down upon them mercilessly as they travel down the road, going north. They cross the great river, the Silver Snake, which is overflowing with water. Thankfully the bridge is still above water, sparing them the effort of wading through the treacherous masses.

Ahead lie the great craggy mountains that separate the kingdom of Trost from the kingdom of Shiganshina, and its capital Neverwinter. It has been a year since Levi travelled this way, he usually goes once every summer, and he always enjoys the journey. Seeing the mountains against the blue horizon has always been a stirring sight, a promise of freedom and tranquillity. But this time, not so much.

After a few hours they leave the road and start climbing the foothills at the base of the mountains. They head for the line of trees in the distance with its promise of shade and shelter.

Levi’s new (unwanted) companion, who has been in great spirits ever since they left Raven’s Roost, and who has been talking unceasingly, has now (finally) shut up. The heat must be getting to him as well.

They take turns carrying the heavy pack of potions and tinctures that Levi is bringing, and Emile is surprisingly eager to carry it. Perhaps he feels bad about forcing his company onto the pedlar.

Whatever the cause may be, Levi is not complaining. But, even though he is intent on tormenting the boy, he is starting to feel slightly guilty. When he looks over at the youth (Levi is not sure of his exact age, early twenties, perhaps) he can see the sweat trailing down his face, continuing down his neck; the brown locks by his nape are damp from the exertion, Levi notices how the hair curls slightly at the ends.

“Do you want me to take over?”

The vacant look on Emile’s face disappears the moment he is addressed.

“Ah, no! I’m good!”

Levi, sceptical,

“Okay, then let’s take a break.”

They’ve reached a small grove of trees where they find a small reprieve from the sun. Levi drops his (or actually Emile’s) considerably lighter load, not giving Emile the chance to protest.

“Let’s rest for a bit.”

Thankfully, Emile follows Levi’s example without a word and sets down his pack. Levi procures a flask of water, which he offers to Emile who drinks gratefully. He eyes the trees, still a little way off.

“Another hour, I reckon, and we’ll be there.”

Emile is placing himself on the grass, his back to a birch tree. He wipes the sweat from his forehead.

"I’m glad. The heat is killing me.” He looks over at Levi. “Luckily, I don’t get burnt easily.”

His eyes scan over Levi’s fair skin, mostly covered, apart from his neck and his hands. The clothing he is wearing is loose but still warm in the summer heat.

“Lucky you,” says Levi, envying the kid his bare arms and legs, and his naturally tan, healthy skin. He takes a seat next to Emile on the grass to rest his sore feet and to drink some refreshing water.

“If it’s going to be like this tomorrow at least we’ll be in the forest,” Emile says cheerfully, conciliatory even. Although fatigued, he seems much more at ease now than this morning. Despite everything, Levi prefers this.

Levi closes his eyes and rests his head against the tree trunk at his back.

Then Emile doesn’t say anything else and they sit quietly for a while, listening to the midday sounds of birds chirping and the buzzing of insects. It is tempting to wait until the afternoon when the sun will have sunk behind the mountains, but Levi wants as few delays as possible. He suspects that Emile wants that too.

Although leaving shitty Raven’s Roost had lifted his spirits somewhat, Levi finds himself feeling uneasy, uncomfortable. He wishes he were already in Neverwinter, alone, rid of the leech that so suddenly attached itself to him. Levi doesn’t like being around other people more than he has to, he’s not used to it, and now he is forced to spend the next few weeks in the company of another person.

Besides, the longer they take to reach Shiganshina the greater the risk of something happening – either to them or the wares he is carrying. The areas around them are not free of bandits, and although he’s never run into them before, he has heard stories of people who have, and he is not eager to tempt Fate – especially not now when he appears to be on her bad side.

And then there is the young man beside him, whom he knows nothing about, and who is desperately hung up on reaching Neverwinter for whatever reason. An urchin who feels the need to travel under a false name…

“So, you got family in Neverwinter?” he asks casually, opening an eye to gauge Emile’s reaction.

Slowly, Emile lowers the flask he has just been drinking from.

“Yes.”

“You been there before?”

A short pause.

“Yes. A long time ago.”       

Levi can feel the tension emanating from Emile as the boy awaits further questioning, but all Levi says is,

“You know how strict border control is, then. You’ve got papers, I hope?”

Emile nods rapidly.

“Yes. Yes, I’ve got them. Don’t worry.”

Levi is tired so he chooses to ignore the waver in Emile’s voice, knowing that he may come to regret that later.

"What about you?” Emile wants to know.

Levi raises an eyebrow.

“What about me? If I’ve got papers? Of course.”

Emile is shaking his head.

“No, I mean… I assume you’ve been there a few times. To Neverwinter, I mean… What do you think of it?”

Levi takes a swig of the flask that Emile has just handed to him. He makes a face.

“I don’t particularly like it there, but I don’t hate it either. My stays there are always pretty short so I can’t say I’ve had the chance to really understand the culture. What I _do_ know, though, is how superstitious the people are. And superstition,” he grins, “is good for business,” patting the heavy case Emile has been carrying most of the way.

Emile’s eyes widen in realisation.

“Wait. You’re selling them quack?”

Levi looks offended.

“It’s not _‘quack’._ It’s alternative medicine. And people are willing to pay good money for it. _Especially_ superstitious people.” He sends Emile a glare. “I’ll thank you not to insult my trade.”

“All right, I’m sorry,” the urchin relents, although clearly unconvinced.

Levi eases off his glare, but cannot stop the sarcasm from seeping into his voice.

“And what about yourself? What kind of morally outstanding occupation do you have?” – because he thinks he knows the answer.

The urchin looks away. “I don’t really have a trade like you.”

_Figures._

“But my father… he was a doctor. He was teaching me.”

_Well, shit._

“So you’re a doctor’s apprentice,” Levi says, not a little surprised – then he notes the past tense.

“Not anymore,” the boy smiles grimly. “But I would like to pick it back up. Someday.”

“Huh. Yeah, that would be wise... You, uhm, need something to live off of.”

Emile nods but doesn’t carry the conversation further. Levi falls silent too, awkwardly; once again he is made to feel bad for this strange person.

They reach the edge of the forest an hour or so later, and it is comforting to walk in the soothing shade of the trees. It is still warm, but Levi can thankfully shed some layers under the protection of the green shadows.

“We should try to be quiet,” says Levi.

The forest gives them protection from the sun and being seen out in the open, but that protection is not given to them alone.

“Why?” asks Emile, who apparently is an idiot who needs to have things spelled out for him. _Green indeed._

“Bandits.”

“There are bandits here?”

“They have been seen in these parts, yes. So we need to lay low, and draw as little attention to us as possible, got it? That means no fire tonight.”

Emile listens intently to what is being said, and then nods.

“That’s fine. I’ve spent cold nights outside before.”

Yet, when they do make camp and go to sleep for the night, Emile is shivering in his bedroll, and that is after Levi has given him an extra blanket.

Which is why Levi doesn’t say anything when he creeps closer during the night, in order to leech of off his body warmth.

“Thank you,” Emile whispers to the night, and instead of pushing Emile away or telling him to shut up, Levi pretends that he is asleep. And as he drifts off, he thinks that, really, he is much nicer than anyone ever gives him credit for.


	2. Chapter 2

Levi wakes. His back is sore from sleeping on the forest floor, but otherwise he feels refreshed. As he slowly gains consciousness, he takes in a long lungful of clean air, feeling his chest expand with the life of it, and finally opens his eyes to peer up into the green canopy that stretches above him. Soft light is being filtered through the leaves, making the world beneath the canopy a gentle, green place. In this green place, he feels soothed; the light is like a balm. For a short moment he allows himself to pretend that the light has healing properties. In this place, he could live. 

In the drowsy moments after waking Levi feels fine, happy even; he can’t remember the last time he slept so well. He turns around, and upon seeing the empty bedroll next to him, he remembers.

He sits up, slowly, casting a look around his and Emile’s camping spot, but there is no sign of the boy. It is quiet but for the birdsong and the whispers of the forest.

It is still fairly early, judging by the light coming in through the roof above. The kid’s probably just taking a leak, Levi thinks, failing to see any other reason for him to be wandering the forest at the asscrack of dawn. But as time passes, and the forest gradually awakes, there is still no sign of Emile.

Levi gets up. Emile’s pack is sitting beside his bedroll. He obviously wouldn’t just leave without his stuff. And why would he leave? After going through all that trouble harassing Levi to secure himself a guide through the mountains.

Logically, there are three possibilities:

a) the kid is lying injured somewhere

b) he’s gotten lost

c) he’s run into bandits

– either way it’s a fucking nuisance.

Before Levi can start a begrudging search for the urchin, he hears a sound from behind the trees. A painful jolt in his chest, but his knife is already in his hand as he stares into the green, waiting for something to emerge.

And it’s Emile, just Emile, stepping into the clearing.

The urchin smiles when his gaze falls upon Levi, but the smile falters when he sees the knife in Levi’s hand. Emile halts a distance away, and even when Levi lowers the weapon, Emile does not immediately approach him.

“Where the fuck did you go?”

“I was – I was looking for the dragonshead. I woke early and I couldn’t sleep so I thought I might as well spend my time wisely. I also… didn’t want to disturb you,” he adds, uncertainly. “You looked so peaceful.”

Levi throws the knife down onto his bedroll, refusing to look Emile in the eye.

“Well, fucking let me know next time, maybe. Did you not hear me when I said there are bandits in this area? If you run into them you’re dead, and I’m sure as hell not risking my hide to save you.”

Levi draws a much-needed breath, not feeling the alleviating effect of the green any longer.

Emile looks like a scolded child.

“I’m sorry.”

Levi turns away.

“Yeah. Whatever. Help me prepare breakfast.”

They eat in awkward silence. While they eat, Levi notices something about the kid. Well, several things actually. First of all, he looks exhausted, like he hasn’t gotten any sleep at all. There are bruise-like shadows beneath his eyes that alert Levi’s suspicion.

The cuts and bruises that had been so prominent on the kid’s face yesterday, are now nearly gone. They are still visible, but the deep gash above Emile’s left eye is almost fully healed, and it had looked like a pretty nasty wound.

Levi debates whether or not he should confront Emile about this. He doesn’t realise that he has been staring until Emile looks up and asks, in an exasperated tone, “What?”

Having been caught off-guard, Levi blurts, “What happened to your bruises?”

“What happened?” Emile echoes with a frown.

Levi, narrowing his eyes, is, again, unsure if the kid is putting up an act or not.  

“They’re nearly gone.”

“Oh,” Emile says, looking as if he has just recalled something. “Yeah, that happens,” before going back to finishing his meal. As if Levi has said nothing at all.

It is infuriating, to say the least.

____

So they are searching for the dragonshead. Levi knows where it grows. Well. Where it supposedly grows.

The blue medicinal flower is elusive; he is only in possession of that one specimen he managed to buy off of a poor unknowing merchant. He was lucky the guy had no idea what he was selling…

Now, whenever he spots a shade of blue beneath the brush, his heart quickens. Yet he is always disappointed. The flower is as rare as the beast it is named after. Possibly extinct. But Levi cannot afford to consider that possibility.

The merchant had been unsure where he had gotten it from, only that it was, most likely, picked somewhere in the mountains. But Levi already knows this. He also knows that the flower is said to grow close to streams, so he makes them seek out the streams that he knows of, so that they can scour the grass close to the water.

Levi carries the phial in his breast pocket like a token. Carrying it, he feels hopeful. It exists there in his pocket – dead and dried but once alive.

Emile and Levi do not talk much. Levi is still angry with him from this morning, and besides, he’s never been much of a conversation maker anyways. Emile, ostensibly the more talkative of the two, is rather quiet as well. It annoys Levi for some reason, but the alternative isn’t exactly desired either, so he sulks in silence.

Levi has gathered that the urchin is in a hurry, and Emile is obviously bothered by the pace. If he could, Levi would have been tempted to draw the ordeal out, if only to spite Emile, but as it happens, Levi does not have an unlimited amount of time either.

Emile is sending Levi anxious glances every other minute, looking as if he wants to say something, before biting his lip and looking away. Levi notices, but chooses to ignore it.

They are walking silently by a stream when, “You’re really obsessed with this flower, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“You’re going to sell it?”

“That’s what I said, right.”

“How do you know of it?”

Levi, who is walking in front, turns to face Emile. He is carrying Levi’s case, and although it is rather heavy, he is not perspiring like he was yesterday; thankfully it is not as hot as before, and they are walking partially in shade. Still, Emile’s cheeks are rosy from exertion.

Levi, frustrated and uncomfortable, hasn’t been paying attention to what Emile has been saying. He is not feeling well; a headache has slotted itself into a space behind his forehead, and isn’t showing any signs of letting go. He sends Emile a glare, ready to snap at any moment.

Emile, however, returns the glare with a patient smile. “Your trade,” he clarifies. “You’re a pedlar specialising in herbs and medicine, right? Who taught you?”

Levi blinks. “Why do you wanna know?”

“I’m just trying to get to know you… We’ll be spending some time together after all.”

Levi gives a scathing laugh. “Yeah, you’re right about that. Let me tell you my whole life story and you can tell me yours, and we’ll bond over it. Why don’t you go first?”

Emile, shut down, looks pained.

Serves him right, thinks Levi, unregretful.

“Less talking, more searching. You said you’d help me, right? That’s the only reason I agreed to take you with me, so please do make yourself useful. The sooner we can find the dragonshead, the sooner we can get to Neverwinter.”

“You don’t trust me do you?”

Levi scoffs.

“Of course not. I don’t know you.”

“Well, I’m trying to remedy that. As much as I can. Please,” saying that, Emile grabs hold of Levi’s sleeve, forcing him to halt.

Levi, surprised, turns to look at the boy. Emile is fixing him with an imploring gaze; his eyes are really, really green.

A short moment, and Levi tugs his arm back. He continues walking. Inexplicably, his heartbeat has sped up. A few more seconds elapse in silence and then:

“A friend,” Levi says softly, “or, more like a father, taught me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Levi can see Emile smiling.

“You were lucky, then.”

“Yes. He saved my life.”

Emile nods understandingly.

“I’m glad,” and then he is quiet.

After that they walk in silence for some time, though it is not as tense as before. Levi feels himself relax somewhat as they continue in their search for the flower, yet the headache is relentless.

A few hours later Levi thinks that he has spotted the right shade of blue in between two stones by the stream, and he lets out a shout.

Emile sees it too, and he says, before Levi can scurry over to it, “Levi – I don’t think it’s the – “

And he’s right, of course. It is only a bluebell. Despondently, Levi stares at it.

“Hey,” Emile sidles up next to Levi, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder. A quick, furtive glance, and the boy leans down to pick the bluebell. “Here, I know it’s not what you’re looking for, but still – isn’t it beautiful?”

Emile is holding the bluebell out to Levi, a soft smile on his lips.

Levi looks at him, at the bluebell, and sighs.

“Fuck… Let’s get back to the path.”

____

Emile is walking by the water’s edge, Levi a few feet behind.

Levi is already feeling tired though it is only midday. He is trying to play it off as mere despondency after the disappointment earlier.

The early exhaustion is alarming to him; his heart is beating violently despite their slow pace and the even terrain. He is trying to ignore it, but it is hard when the blood is so loud in his ears. Thankfully, Emile does not seem to notice.

And so Levi is grateful when Emile suggests they take a short break. Levi sits down on the grassy bank with a grunt, leaning against the case at his back, while Emile takes off his shoes, stepping into the water.

It is quite cold, judging by the grimace on Emile’s face, but he reaches down and splashes water on his face and on his bare arms. It looks refreshing; in a minute Levi will do that too, he just needs to catch his breath first...

Emile steps out of the water, but he slips on the mud, falling gracelessly onto the bank. Levi would have laughed had it not been for the loud shout of pain that followed.

Emile, on the ground, brings up his hand to peer at the deep gash in his palm, in the grass next to him lies a sharp rock, sinister with its new coat of red.

Emile curses and sits up.

Levi crouches beside him.

“Hey, let me see that.”

Cradling his hand, Emile turns away.

“No, it’s fine. It’s not that bad.”

“Don’t be an idiot, let me have a look.”

“I said no! I’ll be fine.”

“Why are you being so difficult? I’m trying to help you, for god’s sake. I’m fucking trained in this shit.”

“Well, so am I!”

“Fine! Then fix it yourself, you numbskull. I hope you’ll get an infection and die, see if I care. Would solve all my problems, really.”

Emile goes silent, glaring at his hand with tears in his eyes.

Levi sits back, angry with the stupid, stubborn boy, stupefied. But he cannot bear to look at the pathetic figure for much longer, so instead he yanks out a few compartments of the medicine case he is carrying, finding the stuff that he needs.

Levi places himself in front of Emile and holds out a hand.

Sternly, “Give it here.”

Emile’s gaze slowly alights from his palm to land on Levi’s. Strangely enough, it doesn’t look like he is in very much pain; rather, he looks uncertain, hesitant.

“Are you deaf?”

Begrudgingly, Emile relents. He puts his hand in Levi’s, who proceeds to pour half a bottle of spirits into the wound, his grip turning vicelike when Emile tries to yank it back, howling in pain.

“It’s for your own damn good––sit still!”

The cut is deep, but shallow enough that he thinks it should heal on its own. Levi grits his teeth while he wraps a clean linen cloth around the wound, trying hard not to let the tiny sliver of satisfaction he feels show as Emile hisses.

“It’s too tight, you idiot! That’s not how you do it!”

“Shut up!”

Levi finishes and ties a demonstrative knot on the end; admittedly not his best work, but the kid has no right to complain, he figures.

Emile brings his hand back immediately when he is let go and scowls at Levi, who meets his gaze calmly.

“You really hate me, don’t you?”

Levi snorts and gets to his feet, picking up the supplies and stowing them back into the case.

"You’re an ungrateful little shit, aren’t you?”

As he is doing this, his back to Emile, he feels a sudden pang in his chest; it is violent enough for him to jerk in pain.

“I could have done it much better myself,” is Emile’s flippant answer, apparently oblivious to the change in Levi’s demeanour.

“Well, tough luck.” Gritting his teeth in pain, Levi heaves the case onto his back again. He turns his eye on Emile on the ground, no patience left. “Now get up. As far as I remember you swore you wouldn’t slow me down, but you’ve been nothing but trouble since the very beginning.”

Emile returns the stare flatly, nonplussed. He gets to his feet, and taking a step closer he narrows his eyes, having a good look at Levi’s face, which has paled in the interim.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

With that, he snatches up his backpack and strides ahead.

Levi, breathless, heavy-hearted, is left to catch up.

_____

Later that day they descend into a valley. The hills surrounding it are steep, so the going is slow. Although Levi has followed this route many a time before, the landscape has changed since he was here last summer, and so has he. Meltwater has altered the slope and there seems to have been a landslide, forcing Levi to pick out a new way down. He knows how treacherous the soil can be, so he is meticulous and careful. He has no wish to die.

Despite the tension between him and Emile, Levi finds himself not hating having somebody else there with him at this leg of the journey. If he had gone here on his own, and should have been so unlucky as to lose his footing, he would have been as good as dead, even if he’d only gotten injured. A broken limb deep in the mountains rarely increases your chance of survival.

They spend the rest of the day getting down, and when they finally reach the bottom they are exhausted. Still, Levi is pleased; no broken limbs, neck intact.

And so he opens a bottle of dandelion wine for them to share over dinner. Emile is surprised but accepts the brew Levi is offering. As they eat and drink, some of the tension dissipates, and it becomes easier for Levi to keep the conversation going, to look Emile in the eye as he speaks.

Since they have found a spot partially hidden under an outcropping of stone, Levi has permitted the lighting of a fire, and Levi, listening carefully, watches Emile over the flames; his cheeks flushed and his eyes animated.

Emile, naturally talkative, chats away easily, even more so now with a little alcohol in his system. He is not as guarded as he usually is, and Levi finds that he enjoys looking at this Emile, so much freer in his expression and his body language. In fact, Levi finds that he can hardly take his eyes off of him. In this light, and in this spirit, Emile is riveting.

Levi holds off on his own drink as Emile talks. He doesn’t say much himself; he is happy just listening to Emile’s stories. And as it turns out, he is about to be rewarded handsomely for his attentiveness.

Emile talks of his father, the doctor, and the training he did with him. He speaks of him fondly. He does not mention a mother. Then he talks of two dear friends, but talking of them evidently makes him sad, until he launches into a funny anecdote. A very interesting anecdote.

“So then, I was up in the tree, filling my bag with apples, when Armin is suddenly there. I was naturally freaked out, nearly fell down, but before I could say or do anything he says to me, ‘Eren, don’t you know that they have dogs?’ That’s when we heard the barking coming from the house, and we had to bolt out of there, apples scattering everywhere.” He laughs. “That’s Armin for you, though. He’d come to warn me even if he’d risk being hounded by dogs,” he smiles fondly, and takes another swig of the dandelion wine.

A grin has slowly been spreading across Levi’s face. “Emile” does not even seem to notice the mistake he has made.

“To be honest, I like Eren a lot more than Emile,” Levi says casually, chin in his hand.

Emile – or Eren, rather – pales. The softness that the fond memory had lent to his features is gone in an instant; his gaze flits to Levi in terror.

It is delightful to watch him react in such a way, to see him thrown and exposed there in the flickering firelight. Being the petty man that he is, Levi savours the distress so evident on the boy’s expression, the schadenfreude strong within him.

Emile stammers and attempts to right his mistake, but Levi ignores him and pours him some more wine.

“Don’t worry about it, _Eren_. I won’t tell anyone.”

Levi finds that he enjoys enunciating this new name that has come to light; it pleases him to see Eren react to it. But Eren, clearly, is far from pleased, and seals his mouth shut.

“So what did you do, Eren? Are you some sort of criminal? Fugitive?”

Eren puts his cup down. It looks like he might be sick. He mutters something about sleep and hurriedly starts searching for his bedroll.

Levi, however, is tired of not having any answers.

“Hey. I knew Emile wasn’t your real name anyway. You made it pretty obvious from the start.”

Eren, back turned to him, doesn’t answer.

“What are you so afraid of, Eren?” Slightly more force behind the words. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Somehow I don’t believe that.”

Eren turns to him, fierce eyes competing with the flame of the fire. His teeth are gritted; jaw locked, lips a thin line of resistance.

Levi breathes, exhales, stokes the fire further, “What did you do, Eren?”

“Stop. Asking.”

Shutting his eyes, closing himself up.

“Don’t you think I should know?” Levi challenges, blood pumping heavily through his veins, and fuck, maybe he’s had a little too much of that wine after all. “Don’t you think I should know whether or not I’m helping a dangerous criminal?”

At that, Eren’s eyes open. And he appears surprisingly calm.

Evenly, coldly, he says, “Isn’t it a little too late to worry about that, Levi? What would you do if I was, say, a cold blooded murderer on the run?”

The atmosphere has changed so drastically. Despite the fire, Levi feels a shiver run down his back.

Eren holds him in place with those green eyes, beautiful, yet frightening; eerily they reflect the firelight.

A memory returns: Eren flying at the thief in Raven’s Roost, knocking him out cold. More powerful than appearance would suggest.

In the firelight, exposed, scared, vulnerable, Eren reminds Levi of a wild animal. A desperate animal with nothing to lose.

Levi forces himself to take a sip of his drink, projecting an image of calm, though his watchful eye never leaves Eren.

“I don’t peg you as a murderer.”

“Is that why you sleep with a knife beneath your pillow?”

Levi shrugs.

“That’s merely a precaution.”

Eren’s eyes are shiny; angry tears, it would seem.

To push the kid further or not. A part of Levi wants to see Eren snap but he would also like to avoid being murdered by a desperate teen, notwithstanding the possibility of it being an end less painful than the one he has had to entertain for himself lately.

“Listen. You were the one to suggest us getting to know each other better. So, don’t get all uptight when I ask you a few questions. That’s only fair, seems to me. Can you really blame me for wanting to know if I’m aiding a wanted criminal or not?”

Eren doesn’t grace him with an answer; stubbornly, he averts his eyes, tight-lipped.

What on earth could he have done? Stolen, murdered, knocked up some noble’s daughter? Whatever it could be, Levi is having a hard time picturing the boy in front of him capable of any of it. Petty theft? Yes. A liaison with a pretty girl – or boy perhaps –? Sure. But nothing so serious that he would have to flee, scared out of his wits.

Levi would desperately like to know. Though, he can recognise a lost battle when he sees one. And despite everything, he feels a slight sliver of sympathy for Eren, who is discreetly trying to wipe the tears from his eyes, and so, feeling saintly, Levi relents. And besides, he’s not retreating without spoils this time.

“Look,” he says, adopting a more amiable tone. “I won’t ask any more questions if you promise not to murder me in my sleep, okay?”

Eren’s gaze shifts back to Levi.

After a beat he mutters, “That would be kind of stupid of me. Murdering you. That would mean the end for me as well.”

Levi raises his cup in a mock salute.

“I’m glad you’ve realised that too. Maybe you’re not the imbecile I took you for.”

And to Levi’s surprise, a tiny smile curves Eren’s lips.

“I promise I won’t murder you. Though you make it very tempting.”

Levi shrugs, emptying his cup.

“That’s good enough for me.”

Eren’s body appears to relax, the tension leaving his limbs as the perceived threat fades.

Levi throws another stick into the flames, watching as it is engulfed.

Eren’s voice comes softly, “I’m not a murderer.”

Eren isn’t looking at Levi; his eyes are caught in the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! it was eren all along, who would have guessed :o


	3. Chapter 3

“Eren.” There is a teasing lilt to Levi’s voice. “Eren, could you hand me that plate, please?”

Eren, sitting beside him on a log, tenses at the sound of his name. The boy turns to look at him with a glower. Levi would never admit it to anyone, but he finds the expression charming.

The satisfaction he gets from having disclosed one of Eren’s secrets is immense. And having realised just how much the revelation bothers the urchin, the feeling has only become sweeter. It is definitely Levi’s way of getting back at him, no doubt about it. Yet, there is another facet to the satisfaction; the act of undressing the boy in such a way, frankly, it is tantalising.

He cocks his head. “What’s wrong, Eren?”

“Will you stop it?”

“What?”

“Saying my name.”

“Is there anything wrong with that?”

“I kept it secret for a reason.”

“And that would be?”

Eren lets out a deep sigh and gets up.

With his back to Levi, “I thought you said you’d stop asking questions.”

“I guess I did say that.”

Levi watches Eren put out the fire they have used to cook breakfast: a bandaged hand throwing a bucket of water onto flames that hiss and die.

“Let me change the dressing,” he offers.

“No thanks, I’ll do it myself.”

There is something odd about Eren’s voice, but with his back turned Levi cannot make out his countenance. He would have argued, but this time he doesn’t.

“Suit yourself.” He picks out clean bandages and leaves them on top of the case. “I’m gonna go take a leak. Be ready to leave in ten.”

They set out a little later, slowly making their way across the valley floor. In the past it would take Levi about a day to reach the other end, but now it is more likely to be two.

This valley has a special kind of flora, he tells Eren, there are certain plants here that he wants to collect, thus the slow pace. It is not entirely a lie.

He is kneeling next to Eren, instructing him how to best cut off the thorns of a long, thick-stemmed plant. Eren follows the instructions; he is deft with his hands, not a complete stranger to this activity. Yet, the thorns are sharper than they look and he pricks himself. Withdrawing his hand, there is a droplet of red forming on the pad of his finger. Eren curses and, contemplating the blood, sucks the finger into his mouth.

Brown locks fall into his eyes, but Levi brushes them away. Surprised, Eren’s gaze darts to his.

“Eren…Your hair is too long...”

Eren stares, finger still between his lips.

“You can hardly see what you’re doing. You keep hurting yourself.”

The touch is nearly tender, an unexpected gesture from Levi.

Eren slips the finger from his mouth, keeping his eyes on Levi, who is watching him strangely.

“Then, will you cut it for me?”

Levi, without knowing exactly why, smiles. He pushes Eren’s head, playfully.

“Yeah. But you’ll have to wash it first. It’s filthy.”

Eren, unoffended, takes a lock of hair between his fingers to inspect it.

“Well, I haven’t had a bath in a while.”

“Yeah, I can smell that.”

Scowling.

“You don’t exactly smell of roses yourself.”

Levi shrugs.

“Guess it’s about time we had a bath, then. Here, give me that,” and he takes the knife from Eren, finishing the job swiftly.

An hour later they come upon a lake. It is midday, and Levi is weary. He lies down on the grassy bank and closes his eyes to the warm, pleasant sun. His body slowly relaxes and it feels nice.

He hears movement, and opens an eye to investigate. Eren is there, a few feet away, his shirt deposited on the ground. Levi watches as Eren unties the string on his trousers, letting them fall. His underwear comes off too, and Levi is granted the sight of a pert ass.

Unfortunately, Eren doesn’t turn; he steps right into the water until he is waist-deep. He dips his head under, and surfacing, the water runs down his chest, tan skin glistening in the sun.

It is… unfortunate, but Levi feels himself heating up.

Lying there, watching, he realises that he finds it exciting to watch Eren––Eren excites him. Of course, Levi can see that Eren is attractive, he isn’t blind, but this is the first time he has seen him naked.

He knows that he shouldn’t be looking at Eren like this, and he feels a little guilty about it, but he also cannot bring himself to stop. So while Eren bathes, oblivious, Levi enjoys the sight of Eren’s body, imagination running away with him.

He would like to touch Eren’s skin; it looks like it would be smooth and soft to the touch… If Levi were to undress and step into the water, would Eren let Levi touch him? If so, Levi would touch his nipples, suck them into his mouth, make sure they pebbled beautifully. He would coax other things to hardness too… And then he would slide his hand down his back, and in between his cheeks…. Would Eren like that? Had Eren ever been with a man before? With anyone? He’s an attractive boy; Levi finds it hard to believe that no one has ever laid hands on him…

Levi’s body is reacting and it is getting dangerous, he forces himself to snap out of it before he is found out. It would make the rest of the journey spectacularly awkward. Reluctantly, he closes his eyes, resisting the temptation before him.

He feels pathetic and slightly ashamed of lusting after a boy probably half his age. It’s just that it’s been a long time since he’s been with anyone, that’s all, he rationalises, and keeps his eyes securely shut when he can hear Eren getting out of the water.

This is the longest amount of time he has spent in the company of another person in many years, and this constant presence is still foreign to him.

Other people, well, he never had to concern himself with them very much. But now, there is Eren.

For many reasons he resents Eren’s presence but Levi is slowly getting used to it, he finds himself being more relaxed around the other. After all, Eren is one of those people who it is easy to be around.

The strong resentment he felt towards Eren a few days ago is fading, he can tell. Now it is beginning to morph into something else, something akin to partiality, and Levi isn’t quite sure how to deal with that. At least not in a good way.

He takes some time to calm himself, pretending that he has fallen asleep when Eren attempts to talk to him. When he “wakes up” Eren is nowhere to be seen, and he uses the opportunity to undress and have himself a brisk bath in the lake.

When he is dry and clothed he goes to find Eren.

“Eren! How about that haircut?”

Eren emerges from the trees, cheeks a little flushed.

“Um, yes! Sure.”

Levi places him on a rock near the water. The scissors glint in the sunlight as he starts cutting off thick brown locks, still damp, trying hard not to think about Eren’s semi-nakedness, and the flushed face he had shown him earlier.

“Are you any good?”

Eren’s question breaks the tense silence, nearly causing Levi to drop the scissors.

“What?”

“I mean do you know what you’re doing? Have you cut anyone’s hair before?”

Levi swallows, internally chastising himself.

“You’re only asking me that now?” and Eren laughs. “In fact, I have. I used to cut my guardian’s hair, and he’d cut mine.”

Eren considers that.

“Your guardian. The one that saved your life.”

“Yes, he took me in.”

“Where is he now?”

A pain in his chest.

“He died.”

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

“It’s been many years since then. It’s fine.”

The silence stretches between them, across a space that seems impossible to cross. But then:

“I know what it feels like,” Eren says. “I lost my mother at a young age… It’s an emptiness that can never be filled.”

Levi clears his throat.

“Yeah.”

He moves to cut Eren’s fringe, pretends he doesn’t notice the wetness of his eyes until Eren closes them––making it easier for Levi to work. This close, Levi discovers that Eren has a smattering of tiny freckles across his nose that had hitherto gone unnoticed.

He discovers too, that, all his cuts and bruises have finally vanished, leaving the skin unblemished.

“There you go,” he says and brushes some loose strands from Eren’s face.

Eren opens his eyes and meets Levi’s gaze.

“Thank you.”

“Let me get you a mirror,” he quickly turns his back on the boy to rummage through his stuff. Eren, meanwhile, erupts in enthusiasm over Levi being in possession of a mirror, an uncommon item. It is nothing special though, a small ugly thing, but he got it for a good price and it serves its purpose well enough.

Eren runs his hand through his freshly trimmed locks and smiles at his reflection. He looks back at Levi, a glint in his eye.

“Who would have thought––you’re actually good at this.”

Levi snorts, barely resisting a snarky retort.

“Thank you.”

Looking in the mirror again, Eren’s face falls.

“I’d offer to cut yours too, but I’m afraid I’m terrible at it. One time I absolutely messed up Armin’s hair. He had it all shaved off in the end. I haven’t been allowed near scissors since then.”

A sheepish confession––Levi finds it endearing.

“That’s okay. I’m used to cutting my own hair.” He changes the subject as he packs up. “We should keep going while we still have the light.”

They set out again as daylight slowly fades. The sky turns orange, then red as the sun bleeds out on the horizon. Eren wants to know more about the flora in the valley, and Levi, dutifully, makes something up. It is a pleasant enough trek; it is the most relaxed day they have spent together so far on their journey.

Perhaps it isn’t so bad to have somebody to talk to every once in awhile, Levi thinks. Even if it’s only about flora.

They make camp at nightfall. A light rain starts as they finish their meal – no fire tonight – and Levi decides that they should spend the night in the shelter of the tent he has brought. Eren, clearly peeved by the fact that Levi had not suggested the tent until now, stops grousing the minute the light rain turns into a downpour, and helps Levi put up the tent in a hurry.

Their clothes are wet, but they undress in the dark to hang them to dry. They don’t speak. Quietly Levi slips into his bedroll as Eren does the same beside him.

It is warm in here, within the tent, their bodies closer in the cramped space, and Levi can’t stop thinking about Eren naked in his bedroll…

With the summer, there is life everywhere; nature is practically singing with it. Yet the nights are cold still; a reminder that after warmth – life – cool, indifferent sleep waits. But then – not as cool as it would have been were he alone.

Levi isn’t alone; Eren is there beside him in the night, a warm, comforting body with working lungs, issuing breaths that make it easier for him to fall asleep in turn…

The next day he wakes as Eren calls his name from somewhere outside. He dresses quickly and peers out at the trees, eyes still hazy from sleep. He can’t see Eren anywhere.

“What?” he shouts. “Where are you?”

“Over here!”

He stumbles out and searches for Eren, following the sound of his voice through the trees, coming upon him standing by a small tarn. He is staring at something on the ground and for a brief, delirious moment Levi thinks that Eren has found it, the blue, life-keeping flower, and the hope makes the revelation worse; a brutal, chilling dismay as he looks upon what Eren is now pointing at, a frown on his face.

Footprints in the mud.

“These… they must have passed right by us in the night,” Eren says in a low voice, glancing over at Levi, who, instead of replying, hunkers down by the tracks.

A dozen footprints, at least.

To know that scarcely twenty feet from their camp, bandits had passed by in the dark… It is an uncanny feeling, a chilling caress by something unseen. If they had lit a fire last night… Levi shudders to think of it.

“We got lucky,” he says and gets to his feet. “We might not be so lucky next time. From now on we need to stay on our toes.”

Eren nods, his face serious.

“You’re right… We should go.”

They pack up in a hurry and leave. Levi too shaken by his own carelessness to speak; Eren equally quiet, and so they walk in silence.

Levi, what had he been thinking? He used to be so careful, always on the lookout, searching the landscape for tracks, and making sure not to leave a trace himself. He had managed to avoid run-ins with the outlaws ever since he got into this business, and he sure as hell wasn’t planning on making their acquaintance now. With chagrin he thinks of the tracks they have left; he hadn’t even attempted to hide them.

Could he even blame it on his condition for being so sloppy?

“Levi?”

…

“Levi?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Never better.”

“…Levi, we should stop and rest. We’ve been walking non-stop––”

Levi turns on him. Wild. He doesn’t know how long they have been going for, but he knows it’s not far enough.

"Do you want to die?”

Eren halts, the frown from before still there. He looks exhausted, newly trimmed fringe plastered to his forehead. He is squinting at Levi trough the glaring summer sun, a look of concern on his face that Levi does not care for.

Mute, the boy shakes his head.

“That’s what I thought. We keep going.”

As the hours run by the day grows hotter and hotter. Levi tries to keep them close to the trees, for shade and cover both, but it does little to cool them down with the ever-rising temperature and the frantic pace that he sets for them.

The landscape seems a blur of green and Levi’s mind is diluted in its colours, unable to hold anything at all.

That is, until a hand touches his shoulder, firmly, and jolts him back into his body.

“Levi. You – we need to rest.”

This… Emile… no, Eren, is looking at him strangely, eyebrows knit. He is holding out a flask to him. And while Levi drinks he does not release his grip.

“Thanks. We keep moving.”

He attempts to shrug the boy’s hand off but it is still there, and the frown on his face deepens.

“If we keep going at this pace you’re going to pass out and that seems counterintuitive to me.”

“We don’t have time to rest,” Levi hisses and this time Eren lets him go when he jerks his shoulder away.

“Why are you so afraid? Those tracks we saw were heading in the opposite direction! They’re miles and miles away now. There’s no way they could catch up with us even if they wanted to. Not on foot at least, and there were no sign of horses so you don’t have to worry about that.”

Eren’s face is shiny with sweat and his shirt is soaked. He wipes his face with a sleeve and pleads,

“Please, Levi, be reasonable. We can afford to take a short break.” A surreptitious look that Levi does not catch in his haze. “You’re nearly killing me here.”

Quietly, Levi relents, slumping his shoulders and allowing himself to breathe. He lets Eren help him off with the heavy case and only when it is removed does he register its weight and the horrid soreness of his shoulders.

“That’s it. Now sit down – and drink some more.”

Levi downs an entire water skin and listens as his heart slows down, feeling the pain enter his body even as the sound recedes.

Fingers tilt his chin up and he is looking into Eren’s worried face.

“You look terrible.”

“You wound me,” he manages, blinking sweat from his eyes as his sluggish mind tries to read the situation.

His eyebrows shoot up as he feels Eren’s thumbs tracing the tender skin beneath his eyes. He wants to ask him what he is doing but his voice seems hard to reach.

Then Eren’s touch is gone and he says,

“You must eat something too. You’re going to keel over any moment now, I can tell.”

Levi watches the boy rummage through his backpack and retrieve some bread and dried meat.

“Eat. And drink more water,” he orders. “I will go refill these. Be right back.”

With that he disappears behind the trees, towards the sound of a brook that must be nearby.

Levi eats in stunned silence, feeling the strength return to his body little by little, muscles and joints still sore and aching. Now that he has had time to calm down he feels sheepish. Perhaps he had overreacted slightly, though he is hesitant to admit it. He knows it is wise to keep away from outlaws, but perhaps one should not run oneself into the ground in order to do so.

Eren returns with the water skins and offers him one along with a cautious smile.

“Feeling better?”

Levi makes an effort to return the smile but it feels stiff, a little insincere even if he doesn’t want it to be.

“Yes. Thank you. Sorry…”

Eren’s eyebrows nearly lift off of his forehead.

“Am I hearing this right? Were you expressing both gratitude and regret just then?”

“Yeah. Don’t get used to it ‘cause I certainly am not.

Eren’s teasing smile turns into a wide grin and he laughs.

“I can see that. Still, I appreciate the effort. It’s kinda adorable.”

“Adorable – that’s new.”

Eren merely chuckles and helps himself to some of Levi’s bread, and Levi decides, meanwhile, that the heat in his face is solely due to overexertion.

Eren drops down into the grass. There are white and yellow flowers everywhere and they frame him beautifully. He puts his hands behind his head and closes his eyes.

“Wake me in a bit. I just need to rest a little.”

Levi would have argued had Eren not looked so tender among the flowers.

For a while, Levi watches Eren peacefully, grateful for the occasional breeze that sighs through the grass. But as Levi’s mind fully returns to him, he starts to wonder where it had gone to in the first place, how come he had been so utterly out of it, and as this thought strikes him, so does an excruciating pain.

It is so intense that it has him doubling over, falling to his knees. It has him crawling as far as he can from Eren’s slumbering body so that he will not hear the retching and the pathetic moans that he is helpless to stop

_Fucking shit… I’m running out of time._

Thankfully, he passes out.

_____

When Levi wakes, it is dark. A short moment he is frightened, then he can see that the darkness is not total, it consists of different shades and shapes, and they are moving softly, quietly, as if in a breeze. And indeed, they must be trees.

Then he hears the sound of crickets all around and the bubbling of a brook somewhere near. It is not an empty, ominous darkness.

Levi’s body tenses as he remembers the pain, but it is not present as of now. His body aches from exertion but that ugly, blinding pain is not afflicting him at the moment. It is poor solace, however, as he knows very well it is nowhere but coiled up tightly within him, waiting to spring free and perhaps bring him total darkness next time.

It is the only thing he cannot run from, the only thing that could ever stop him.

Levi is cold now, but not uncomfortably so. He sits up, and realises that he is in his bedroll. Squinting through the darkness, he tries to make out shapes, figuring out where he is.

Then a soft voice, as not to startle him:

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

Eren is there, right next to him, Levi can just make out his shape in the darkness.

“I’m good,” he says, and is startled by the hoarseness of his voice.

The Eren-shape sits up and moves closer; Levi can make out his face now; grey and worried.

“You really did pass out, didn’t you?” When Levi doesn’t answer: “When I woke up it was already afternoon and I found you unconscious in the grass… I told you we should have stopped!”

Eren’s voice is high and shaky. It is uncomfortable to listen to.

“Shh, I know. I made a mistake. Be quiet, will you.”

There’s a punch to his shoulder and it hurts like hell.

Eren has lowered his voice to a furious whisper.

“How dare you be worried about me murdering you when you clearly have it out for yourself! What would I have done out here all alone…”

“I guess you would have died, one way or the other.”

“Exactly. Prick.”

He is quiet for a moment. Then, softer:

“But you are feeling better?”

“Yes, Eren.”

“Good. Tomorrow try not to act like a fucking idiot. Good night.”

“Good night, Eren.”

It takes a while before Levi can fall asleep. He watches and listens to the strange trees swaying in the night; it is nearly hypnotic, but it does not lull him to sleep.

The dragonshead. He needs it soon. Very soon.

He seeks out the warmth of Eren’s body in the dark and lies close to him until he is finally pulled under.

The fire that has been lit in the distance goes unnoticed by either of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is some intense flower picking huh. let me know if u like it !


	4. Chapter 4

After that day, where Levi passed out cold from agonising pain, something changes.

Levi listens. Intently, he listens to the beating of his heart, expecting it to cease at any moment; for pain to flood him until he drowns, for his lungs to shut down each time he is short of breath.

But it doesn’t happen.

He becomes acutely aware of every movement of every limb, how the joints and tendons and muscles work together, how his chest expands with every breath; the mouldy smell of the black earth beneath his feet, how it lingers on the skin of his hands where the dirt has embedded itself in the prints of his fingers; the gradients of green that surround them, the bright beautiful yellow of a wildflower; the heft of the knife in his palm when he severs the head from its stalk, the shock of cool water from a spring, the sudden electrifying warmth when his hand accidentally brushes Eren’s––everything is intensified.

It is both a gift and a curse. Levi may be sick, but he is not deluded; there will be no miraculous convalescence without the dragonshead, and perhaps not even then. The state he finds himself in, though bright and teeming is but a grim prelude. And yet, despite knowing this, he comes to treasure his heightened senses, this acute way of perceiving the world, so unfamiliar and, frankly, overwhelming at times. It makes sense to him, somehow, that he should feel like this, approaching death. Levi trembles with sensation, but is grateful for it.

Still, he is shameful of the fear he so blatantly displayed in front of Eren when faced with the possibility of death, how he had become so wretched and mindless in his fright.

That person… that pitiful person crawling on the ground, that is not who he is; that is not how he wants to be when the time comes––nor does he want for Eren to witness that.

The memory, stark and merciless in his mind, is a source of abject fear; it haunts him.

Eren is wary of him. Levi can feel his incessant scrutiny, looking for signs of fatigue, no doubt. Eren himself seems tireless; always offering to carry the heaviest load, offering to collect firewood when they need it, offering to search for a stream where they can replenish their supply of water––offering, offering, offering…

The jig is up, it seems.

Levi notices, too, Eren’s distress. Even though he attempts to hide it, Levi can tell; his impatience, his constant worry. It had been evident since day one, of course, but then it had seemed to fade a little, or perhaps Eren had just learnt how to hide it better. Now the desperation seems to have grown; it shows on his face when he thinks Levi isn’t looking...

Levi wants to know. Desperately, he wants Eren to tell him, to confide in him, to trust him; chances are he would not have the opportunity to break Eren’s trust even if he wanted to. But Eren is staring off into the distance, biting his lip, elsewhere, then turns to Levi with a wan smile, asks if he is okay, if he needs a drink of water.

Levi nearly hates him then, when he is so far away.

They have spent a fortnight together in the wilderness and there is still no sign of the dragonshead. Levi feels himself starting to lose hope. Simultaneously, as the hope wanes, he feels himself migrating closer to Eren, yearning for contact of some kind.

Unable to sleep, he lies in the dark watching the progression of a glow-worm on the outside of the tent canvas. The sound of Eren’s steady breathing melds with the summer symphony that the crickets play; carefully, Levi listens as his gaze follows the glow-worm––he is waiting for something.

There is something strange in the air; his mind feels unusually clear. He waits, and from the back of his mind something cold emerges.

As Eren had intimated before, more as a joke than anything else, if Levi were to die out here, what would happen to Eren?

The glow-worm has turned, circling back the way it came, aimlessly. Beside him, Eren shifts, sighing in his sleep.

He could tell him, of course, but what good would that do? It wouldn’t change anything, Levi would still die and Eren would still be on his own. It would be courteous, he supposes, to prepare his companion for the inevitable, but what good is courtesy in death… I cannot imagine telling him…

How would he react? He would pity me, surely. Maybe he would try to comfort me… I don’t think I could stand that. Knowing the boy, he would want to help; and it would be cruel to tell him when there is no way of helping.

The best solution is, perhaps, to draw a map and leave it for him to find. Hopefully, it will be enough to guide him to Neverwinter…

From the very onset, it had been a bad idea, the two of them travelling together. Levi had felt it: when he first laid eyes on the urchin, with all his cuts and bruises, complete with dirty ragged clothes, and that desperate look on his face, he had known it in his bones that something would go wrong. And still he had agreed to help him… why?

Was it because Levi had a conscience after all, or was it simply because he had a weak spot for pretty boys? Whatever the cause, here they were, both running out of time, one death possibly leading to another’s…Ultimately, taking Eren on had been a selfish and unwise thing to do.

The glow-worm has stopped its slow crawl. He waits for it to move, to continue its trek or take to the air, but it is motionless now, the only evidence of its sentience the faint green glow, emitted to attract a mate.

Would that he could be a beautiful glow-worm.

_____

“Stop that!”

Levi blinks, gaze landing on a displeased Eren.

“Stop…what?”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking about. You look miserable as hell.”

Levi had been busying himself with sorting through boxes of phials before his mind had transported him elsewhere. The box sits in his lap, the glass clinking softly as he stirs, trying to look alive before Eren’s watchful eye.

Eren is sitting on his knees by the fire, preparing supper. Lately, he has been doing most of the cooking, and while they have had no luck in finding the dragonshead, they have been able to gather a fair amount of root vegetables; stew has therefore been on their menu more often than not. Levi has been meaning to set out traps to secure a more substantial diet, and he should really set about doing that before they fall out of favour with the benevolent gods that seem to have taken pity on them.

“How’s your hand?” Levi deflects.

Eren averts his gaze. He has been adamant about changing the dressing himself, refusing Levi’s help every time. It is incredibly annoying.

“It’s fine. It’s healing,” he mutters, stirring the pot.

_Oh, I’m sure it’s healing._

“Does it hurt?”

Eren shakes his head, eyes on the stew.

At the bottom of Levi’s stomach, it feels like something is rotting. He wishes that he could be someone else, someone with more time, someone who would know what to do, what to say, in order to reach Eren, to have him open up, to let him in…

_Why won’t he trust me?_

“Are you all right, Eren?”

Incredulously, “Am _I_ all right? I’m- I’m fine.”

“See, I don’t believe that.”

“I’m just worried.”

“About what?” Levi persists.

Eren considers him for a moment, searching his face for something or other. Whatever it is he seems to have found it. His shoulders sag as he returns his gaze to the stew.

His voice is subdued when he says, “My family. I hope they are okay.”

“Mikasa and Armin.”

Eren’s eyes go wide before they flit to Levi, surprised that the other would remember, probably.

“Yes. I - I miss them…”

“If I ask you exactly why you worry so much about them, would you answer me?”

“It’s… it’s a whole big mess and there is no easy explanation. You might not even believe me if I told you––I’m not sure you’re that kind of person.”

Indignant. “What’s that supposed to mean? What kind of person?”

“Ah, forget about it…”

For the first time in many years, Levi feels hurt. It’s a cold, foreign feeling.

“Also…I don’t want to get you more involved in this than you already are,” Eren mutters, eyes fixed on the dirt.

“You don’t trust me,” Levi interprets, deadpan.

“No! That’s not it. It’s just… it would be troublesome for you. And I’ve already bothered you enough.”

He seems sincere, yet the sting lingers.

“How considerate…” he mutters, it is not so loud that Eren can hear.

“If I don’t get to Neverwinter in time, Mikasa and Armin will be in trouble.” Eren looks back at him, eyes shining. “You said it would take us approximately three weeks to cross the mountains, right? Aren’t we getting close now?”

Levi avoids the imploring eyes that settle on him. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

He picks up a phial pretending to be interested in it. Truth is, the label has fallen off and he is not exactly sure what it is he is looking at.

“Well, it might take us a little longer than I thought,” he dares to steal a glance at Eren but is caught and held by the green intensity. “Still,” he hears himself saying, unable to look away from the boy at his feet, “there is a chance we could make it within that time frame––if we aren’t delayed, that is.”

Eren blinks. “Do you expect to be delayed?” It is an earnest question.

Levi breathes, and puts the phial back into its slot. He would have to finish this at some other time, when his faculties are working with him.

"You never know,” he says. “These mountains hold surprises, I have learnt.”

______

The first surprise takes the form of a rainstorm. There had been no sign of its coming; the sky had been calm and blue for days, and then, leaving the tent one morning, Levi saw the black ominous masses rolling in over the mountains behind them, in pursuit. And then it was upon them.

The wisest would have been to wait it out, but they keep going: it is a silent agreement between the two.

Eren is grim in the face of it, quiet and focused. So is Levi. It takes a lot of effort to keep their bearings with the poor sight and the fatigue that seems to have permanently settled in his body by now. He becomes increasingly worried that they might lose their way if the storm doesn’t pass soon.

The rivers swell and Levi mourns. Fitful nights follow, wherein dreams of blue flowers, mercilessly broken and drowned by the furious waters, plague him.

During one of these nightmares he wakes up, and finds Eren staring at him through the dark. He whispers something, but Levi cannot catch the words over the hammering of rain outside. His eyelids are heavy, but before he can slip away, he feels the warm caress of a hand against his cheek, and there is another whisper he cannot decipher. In the morning it is forgotten.

They finally reach a familiar river, which is partly a source of relief–they are on the right track–but mostly it is soul crushing. The river has grown so big it seems near impossible to cross and Levi feels his stomach sinking lower and lower the longer he stares at it.

Then there’s a grip on his arm, and Eren says, “Let’s find a place to cross,” firmly pulling Levi with him alongside the bank. Levi lets him.

After some time, they do find a place where the river is narrower, but it will still be a feat to ford the water; some of the rapids foam at the mouth like angry beasts, and Levi remember tales from his childhood of creatures living in furious waters like these, all cold skin and webbed fingers, ready to pull you under and crush your skull on the rocks below.

“I’ll go first,” Eren says, taking his cloak off and stuffing it in his backpack. He turns to Levi. “Give me the case. I’ll carry it.”

Levi hesitates. “Why?”

“I’m stronger than you. And I’m taller. Give it here.”

Levi, weary and taken aback by this sudden assertiveness, hands the case over to Eren, who hefts it onto his back. He looks at Levi and nods.

“Wait.” Levi searches Eren’s backpack until he finds what he is looking for. “Here,” tying a rope securely around Eren’s waist. His fingers are numb and clumsy from the rain and the cold, but he gets it done. He clutches the end of the rope in his hand. “I’ll hold onto this. Don’t… don’t drop my stuff.”

Eren grins, and it should have looked odd on his face in this miserable situation, the rain coming down in sheets, making it look as if he has already been for a dip, his hair plastered onto his head _._

“Don’t worry.”

He steps into the water, it reaches him just above the waist. Levi is surprised to see the ease with which Eren moves through the masses, steady, like he isn’t wading through a treacherous river aching to push and pull him under.

When he is about halfway, though, he seems to lose his footing, and Levi shouts, immediately pulling on the rope, but Eren steadies himself and keeps moving towards the other bank, unfazed.

To Levi’s amazement, he reaches the bank unscathed. Having pulled himself up on the other side, Eren jumps with glee and shouts something Levi can’t hear over the roar of the water.

With thunder in his ears, Levi picks up Eren’s backpack. He secures the rope around his waist and steps into the river.

It isn’t as cold as he thought it would be, but the current is strong. Eren’s ease had made him underestimate its power, and it nearly pulls him off his feet the moment he enters the water.

Looking ahead, he sees Eren standing on the other side waiting for him. The rope is still tied around his waist it seems, and with both hands holding it securely he watches Levi’s progression.

It feels like hours, but finally the bank is closer. Still, Levi’s strength is receding, being washed away by the uncaring water. He has endured the pain for so long now, and he wants to make it, but it seems impossible. No matter how close it may be it is still too far away for him.

Frustrated tears mingle with the rain streaming down his face. He is deaf to everything else than the thundering river surrounding him, he can barely see ahead for the tears and the rain. It is painful, too much to bear. And, silently, and all at once, he gives up.

“I’ve got you.”

A strong arm wraps around Levi’s waist: Eren is there, pulling him through the water. The next moment he is dragged onto the bank, coughing and heaving from exhaustion.

“Levi! Are you okay?”

Eren is freeing him of the backpack and then there are hands roaming and rubbing all over, like they’re trying to make sure everything’s in place. Levi only turns and falls onto his back in the mud, feeling gross and cold and drained, sucking in air to calm his wild heart, seeking to trick his body into thinking everything is fine. They're safe. They're both safe. Now is not the time to have another fit.

“Fuck…”

“Levi?!”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I’m so sorry, I should never have suggested we cross it. We should have waited, I guess? Or gone around? I don’t know, oh god, I was so scared… I’m so sorry!”

Eren hands are on his face now, cold and wet, but somehow it feels nice.

“Relax. There was no other way.”

He can see that Eren is crying and makes an effort to sit up. As he does, Eren’s hands fall away.

“You’re stronger than you look,” Levi says, still breathing heavily, grimacing when a sharp pain slashes through his chest, but it is left at that.

Although drenched to the bone, Eren looks fine. The only distress he seems to be feeling is for Levi.

“You think so? Hey, let’s find some shelter from the rain.” He is already helping Levi to his feet, avoiding Levi’s inquisitive gaze. He heaves the case onto his back. “We might find something among those trees. Come on.”

And he leads the way, a supporting arm around Levi’s shoulder, which he honestly does not resent; his legs are still shaking from exertion.

It looks like a cave at first glance, its blackness looming out from behind the trees, but when they get closer they see that it is two massive boulders leaning on each other, creating a cover from the wind and the rain. They decide that they’re not going to find anything better than that, and plonk down their stuff.

It takes some time, but finally Levi gets a fire going, feeling somewhat useful when the tendrils of warmth reach out towards him, and when Eren migrates closer with a happy sigh, rubbing his hands together above the flames. They hang up what they can to dry and settle in to warm their own sorry bones. Levi is beyond worrying about being spotted by anyone; if they don’t dry themselves soon they would have pneumonia to deal with, which could be just as deadly as a slit throat.

Eren finds a blanket that has, miraculously enough, kept dry through the whole ordeal, and when the two of them aren’t dripping wet anymore, he drapes it over their shoulders, placing himself close by Levi’s side.

“You… kinda saved my ass back there,” Levi says, staring hard into the fire. “Thank you.”

For a short moment Eren is quiet, then, “I think you could have made it on your own, I just wanted to make sure.”

When Levi turns to look at him, Eren is smiling.

“I wonder…”

They sit in silence for a long time, drying themselves, feeling the numbness evaporate from their limbs. After a while, Eren busies himself with pots and pans, concocting a stew out of the few vegetables they have left. Somehow, he makes yet another meal that tastes way better than it should. Levi doesn’t understand how he does it; he has never been much of a cook himself. It is another perk, he has found, of having Eren as his companion.  

“This is amazing,” Levi says.

Eren casts his gaze down, pensive, a small smile on his lips.

A little later,

“Are you sick?”

Levi’s heart skips a beat. Voice strained,

“What?”

“You’ve been so nice to me lately I’m worried you’re coming down with something.”

There’s a teasing smile on Eren’s lips and a glint in his eyes. Levi tries to laugh, but it comes out forced. Thankfully, Eren doesn’t seem to have caught on.

“Well,” he starts, doesn’t know how to proceed. “I… don’t warm up to people easily. I mean, I’ve never spent this much time with anyone in years,” he admits without even thinking about it.

“Really?” Eren blurts, eyes widening.

Levi raises an eyebrow.

“Were you under the impression that I have a lot of friends?”

Eren shakes his head, colour rising in his cheeks.

“I didn’t–I’m sorry.”

But Levi’s lips quirk slightly, a hint of a smile that Eren doesn’t catch.

_Strange._

Usually, when in the company of others, there is a certain weight on Levi’s chest; not exactly uncomfortable, but heavy enough that it discourages him from putting in the effort to extract whatever words he might be harbouring. More often than not, the action seems pointless. Why should he speak? This person, mere dust to him, he would never see them again; tomorrow he would be somewhere else, forgotten. Why speak?

With Eren it is different. That weight he is so familiar with isn’t there, instead his chest feels lighter. It is a peculiar feeling, to pull forth his voice so effortlessly. Although the words should be heavy, they are not. So he speaks:

“I’m an orphan, you know. I grew up on the street.” He watches Eren, who again has his eyes trained on him. “Didn’t really form any meaningful bonds when I was a kid. Then, in my late teens I was taken in by a man who took pity on me for some reason. I stayed with him for a few years until he died. After that I started travelling.”

He pauses; sighs.

“What I’m saying is, I’m not used to being around people. Never been good at it. Others."

“I see… I mean, I noticed you weren’t exactly a people person.” Eren’s voice is quiet, but Levi can hear the smile. “I’m sorry, though. It must have been hard.”

Levi shrugs.

“I guess so, but it made me strong. And honestly, I don’t mind this kind of life––I’ve always been rootless,” he says, ignoring the hollow feeling in his stomach.

Eren is smiling at him, but Levi thinks it looks a little sad.

Looking into the fire, he mutters,

“I can’t imagine it… It sounds so lonely,” and in that moment he looks so forlorn that Levi cannot bear it, yet doesn’t know what to say to make it better.

“It’s not for everyone.”

Eren nods, doesn’t respond. Levi, unsure of how to continue the conversation, opts instead to steal surreptitious glances at Eren, who is lost in thought. Once more he finds himself mesmerised by Eren’s beauty, by the way the firelight dances on his face. When he catches himself staring, he quickly occupies himself by throwing more sticks onto the fire before getting up to stretch his legs.

It is quickly getting darker and the rain shows no sign of letting up. Levi is feeling better now after some rest and some food, so, finding a soft spot of grass, he starts putting up the tent, the rocks giving them some extra cover. He glances over at Eren every so often; he sits frozen by the fire.

Levi approaches him.

“Hey, don’t look like that.”

Eren looks up from his thoughts, eyes a still a little unfocused, as if he’s not all there just yet. But his gaze follows Levi as he reaches into the case and pulls out the last bottle of dandelion wine. He had intended to sell it in Neverwinter, but to hell with it.

“How about a drink?” Levi grins. “I mean, we didn’t drown today, I think that’s cause for celebration.”

Eren mirrors his smile easily and laughs, shaking off whatever it is that haunts him.

“You’re right.”

Sombre thoughts are washed away with the wine and the rain, and they talk cheerfully as they share the bottle. Levi focuses on the here and now, the warmth of the fire, the rejuvenating drink, Eren’s smile, Eren’s laugh…

When they are finally warm and dry, and the wine is finished, they retreat into the tent, where they continue their conversation.

In the cramped tent they sit close together, but it doesn’t bother Levi; he cherishes the way Eren’s warmth is seeping into him. It feels heavenly after all that coldness.

Levi weaves tales of eccentric customers from all over the land, of what kinds of potions he has had to make, what kinds of talismans he has had to procure in order to cancel curses that someone was convinced that they had been put under; and he admits, too, that he is not always so honourable when it comes to his trade.

Finally, Levi realises, sitting there next to a laughing Eren, just how stupidly attracted he is to him, and the awareness hits him like a blow to the stomach even though he should have seen it coming from miles away.

Eren, who isn’t the green boy he had mistaken him for when they first met, Eren who stood there on the other side waiting for him, who helped him when he thought he was lost.

“You did good today, Eren,” he says softly, daring to look at the boy.

Eren bumps his shoulder.

“Careful now, or I might think that you’re starting to like me,” he teases. He is tilting his head and holding Levi’s gaze.

“You’re all right––mostly annoying, though.”

“You really don’t know how to give someone a compliment, do you?”

“I guess not.”

“You know what? I think you’re just shy.”

“What?”

Eren is grinning like the devil he is.

“I think you’re shy. And it’s adorable.”

Adorable––again.

The dandelion wine is to blame. It is most definitely the dandelion’s fault, Levi thinks afterwards. Well, mostly the dandelion’s fault. At least it gives him enough courage to lean over and press his lips to Eren’s in a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my boy levi making a move. lemme know if you like it !


	5. Chapter 5

Eren’s lips are soft, like Levi had imagined them to be. The feel of them sends a tremor through his body, a frenzied ripple, altogether unexpected––pleasant, yet frightening. Curious, Levi would like to prolong it, but he is too agitated, too tense.

The kiss is short; it ends with Levi pulling back, heart in his throat as he opens his eyes to gauge Eren’s reaction.

Eren’s eyes are green and wide. His breath is hot against Levi’s lips, still so close.

“Do you still think I’m shy?” Levi asks, trying to sound confident, but his heart is racing like mad.

Eren doesn’t answer. Instead, he raises his hand slowly, a little hesitantly, and places it against Levi’s cheek. His eyes flicker around Levi’s face, as if looking for something, or perhaps gathering pieces for a puzzle. Eren’s eyebrows twitch as in confusion, but it is only for a second; his expression changes to one of wonder. In the next moment, he is pulling Levi back for another kiss, lips parting to receive him.

Gently, Eren moves his lips with Levi’s, sort of hesitantly; explorative kisses that have them parting often, but connecting shortly after, as Eren tilts his head to try another angle.

It is perhaps a little clumsy, on Levi’s part mostly, he has never considered himself a good kisser, but Eren on the other hand seems to have had some practice. Still, he is shy about it at first, insecure maybe, but he grows more confident, kisses getting heavier as Levi’s breath grows laboured.

Levi cannot remember the last time he kissed someone; needless to say, it could not have been very memorable. But this? Kissing Eren? Eren kissing him? Nothing could compare. God, he would never forget in a million years.

Too soon for Levi’s liking, Eren draws back. His cheeks are dusted pink, from the heat, the alcohol, the feeling, and Levi wants nothing more than his lips again.

Eren, however, has fixed him in place with his eyes––there is confusion in them. His voice low, tinted with wonder when he says,

“Levi…why are you kissing me? I thought I was annoying.”

Truly, Levi’s mind is in a daze––he blames it on the dandelion.

“Well… you’re not annoying when I kiss you.”

Eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Levi’s eyes are back on Eren’s mouth. He leans closer, “You can’t talk then.”

Eren, however, leans away with a mocking gasp.

“So you only kissed me to make me shut up?”

“Hm, not _only_ because of that.”

“Is this your way of seducing me? If so, you are absolutely terrible at it.”

But Eren is laughing, no sign of aversion in his demeanour, and he is not removing himself from Levi’s space. It is intoxicating to look at him like this, his mouth open in glee, eyes crinkling with mirth, gaze directed at Levi. Eren is particularly beautiful like that, when his expression is full of joy.

Levi wonders what it would look like in ecstasy, lips parting not on a laugh, but on a whimper or a moan of pleasure, his eyes closed or heavy lidded with lust as he climbs further and further to his peak... It is a dangerous image.

Levi hasn’t been with anyone for a long, long time, and the heat and proximity of Eren’s body, combined with the image in his mind, is quick to arouse him.

Eren draws closer, his hand trailing down to Levi’s neck.

"Seems it might be working, though,” Levi tries, distracted by Eren’s touch.

A chuckle, “Maybe…”

They share a moment, gazing upon each other. It is a remarkably fragile moment, yet it fills Levi’s being with a shivering excitement; expectation is a heady potion.

“Levi… do you like me?”

It gives Levi pause. There is uncertainty in Eren’s voice; he can hear it clearly through the dandelion haze. Green eyes are still searching his face for a missing piece.

Levi, yearning, leans in towards him again.

“I do.”

Eren’s eyes settle, steady now, and a gentle, coy smile curves his mouth.

“Good.”

Gaze dropping briefly to Levi’s lips, then back, Eren parts his lips so that Levi can glimpse the rosy tongue lying within, thus letting Levi meet him halfway.

Eren slips a sigh into Levi’s mouth when they meet once more. Levi savours it, along with the first hint of tongue against his bottom lip.

Levi puts a hand on Eren’s waist to steady him, as they slowly, gingerly, exchange kisses; Eren daringly flicks his tongue out to meet Levi’s and it stirs something in the bottom of his stomach. The kisses grow deeper and headier than before, both becoming short of breath.

The skimpy garment Eren is wearing has slid up so that Levi can feel soft skin beneath his fingers. Temptation is too much and he lets his hand travel up under Eren’s shirt. In doing so he hears Eren’s breath hitch; he pulls back from the kiss.

Eren meets Levi’s eye as his hand travels further, to his chest, where he reaches a nipple. A quiet gasp, nearly inaudible, and a slight change in Eren’s eyes tell Levi what he wants to know. As he thumbs the small bud, scraping it with his nail, he watches Eren’s eyes go heavy lidded, just like he had imagined, only better.

The atmosphere shifts, the tension grows.

A hand goes into Levi’s hair as Eren presses his body closer to him, so hot that Levi thinks he might faint. But he doesn’t, and besides, Eren is kissing him again. He wraps his arms around the boy, sighing into his mouth because it feels so nice holding him, it feels right.

It is all a little overwhelming, the heat and the bodily contact. It feels good, but it is intense, more so than Levi remember it being in the past. But those encounters had been nothing more than bodies connecting, a means to an end. This, with Eren, is something else.

Then Eren pulls him down, Levi settling atop him. He is both puzzled and overjoyed that Eren is so eager, flattered even–– _Eren wants him_. The evident desire calms the nervousness he feels in the pit of his stomach, but it does not eradicate it. His heart is beating so loud; surely Eren must hear it, at least feel it against his chest.

They part for a moment to catch their breath. Eren is beautiful beneath him, brown locks spilling out on the blankets underneath, cheeks flushed, green eyes lit with want; the sight of him leaves Levi in awe.

“Hey, um… it’s been a while since I did this.”

Eren looks surprised.

“Oh. Well,” he averts his eyes, looking embarrassed. “I… I haven’t really done this so much myself. I mean, I’ve never really… I’ve only fooled around with this one boy in my neighbourhood, but we’ve never… you know.”

Levi’s breath is shaky,

“Yeah.”

Eren looks back at him.

“Is that… fine?”

“What? Of course it is.”

“Okay, good! That’s good.”

“It’s okay to be nervous, Eren. Besides, we don’t have to fuck.”

Eren is blushing furiously now.

“I know that! I want to, though,” he mutters.

Levi’s stomach jumps. Tenderly, he presses his lips against Eren’s neck; a quivering breath heating the skin there as he seeks to collect himself. He trails his lips up to Eren’s ear.

“Yeah?”

Eren trembles against him, making Levi’s hips feel weak as they instinctively grind down, moaning at the feeling of Eren’s excitement, the way Eren bucks his hips up to meet him.

The face Eren is showing him is sinful.

“Yeah. Fuck me.”

The vulgarity sends a jolt of arousal straight to Levi’s cock, and a sudden hunger compels him to taste Eren’s lips again; soft and wet, heated breaths shared between them when they eventually part.

Levi pushes Eren’s shirt up, desperate to feel more of his skin. He succeeds in tugging the garment off, palms caressing Eren’s soft, tanned stomach as he continues to press kisses along his jaw. He mouths at the skin there, breath hot, dares to flick his tongue out to taste. A moan from Eren encourages him in his ministrations, but soon he is pulled back up so that Eren can tear Levi’s shirt off in turn: the heavenly feeling of skin on skin, and then Levi is coaxed into another kiss.

Without hesitation, Eren slips his tongue into Levi’s mouth. He moans at the warm, wet feeling of it; exquisitely sinful, it sends a delightful shiver down his spine. Eren clearly knows what he is doing, easily guiding Levi, who is quick to follow his lead.

Levi had forgotten about all of this; how exciting and _pleasurable_ it could be. In the moment, he gives himself permission to forget everything, to forget about death and dying, and to merely enjoy the sensations to the fullest, to indulge in the pleasures of Eren’s body.         

All he wants is more––more and more and more. All that Eren can offer, he will take it.

Levi slides a hand down the smooth expanse of Eren’s stomach, delighted by the way the muscles tense under his touch, how the boy shudders, before he arrives at the bulge in between Eren’s legs. Gingerly, he cups him.

“I want you,” he breathes into Eren’s open mouth and the boy lets out a shaky breath, instinctively pressing his hips into Levi’s hand.

Pulling back, Levi peers down at Eren’s face.

“Is this okay?”

Eren immediately nods, though clearly embarrassed.

“Then…”

Biting his lip, Levi slips a hand inside Eren’s trousers, fingertips searching, moving through a patch of coarse hair. Eren’s lips part, a sweet, trembling sigh escapes him when Levi’s fingers finally close around his length.

To Levi’s surprise, two arms come up to circle his neck as Eren presses his face into his chest. It makes Levi’s heart stutter, feeling Eren so close, having him in such an intimate embrace.

He lies down beside him, one hand running through Eren’s hair, the other slowly becoming familiar with his length; in Levi’s hand, Eren hardens quickly.

Impatient, Levi pushes Eren’s trousers down and off, taking out a beautiful cock, hard and red with arousal. Seeing it, he curses, but the expletive is drowned by Eren’s moans as he takes him back into his hand, carefully working him over.

“Haa-ah.”

Eren clings to him, gripping him tightly as Levi leisurely caresses the entirety of his bare flesh, appraising it. There is a drop of precum pearling at the head. Stunned, he spreads it gently on the head, soft as velvet against his thumb. It makes Eren whimper, and he jerks his hips into Levi’s fist in pursuit of more.

Levi drinks in the sight; the boy in such a state of arousal, laid out like this, lost in his pleasure––it is the most erotic thing Levi has ever seen.

Eren has become wanton in his arms, utterly nude, skin hot against him, body emanating a sultriness Levi never had dared to imagine. It’s a little too much; he pries his eyes away, closes them, and presses his lips against Eren’s forehead.

“Eren,” he breathes, and Eren comes out of hiding.

Levi brushes a lock of hair from his face.

Eren meets his eye, whispers: “Feels good, Levi.”

As if it were a living thing, Levi can feel the want growing within him, and his cock is responding in kind, especially when Eren’s warm hand comes to caress him through his trousers, breathing into his ear to, “Please, take them off.”

Quickly, he sheds his remaining clothing; Eren’s eyes are on him, watching intently. And then he is naked and on top of Eren again, finally feeling the hot, hot skin of the younger man against his own.

Eren wastes no time in wrapping his arms around Levi, sighing at the sensation of Levi’s taut body. They both moan when their erections brush against one another, and Eren, endearingly, cants his hips into Levi’s, who grinds down onto him while biting and kissing at his neck, both exhilarated by the feeling of the other’s nakedness.

Upon lifting Eren’s chin, Levi is, once again, struck by his beauty; flushed cheeks, rosy lips, eyes turning with lust, beckoning him. Levi craves Eren’s mouth, the lips that part on yet another moan, as Levi grinds his cock against Eren’s.

Levi captures Eren’s lips in yet another kiss. Eren’s eyes fall shut when Levi’s tongue enters his mouth; this time Levi is allowed to do as he pleases and in the most delectable way, Eren melts against him, giving himself over.

Levi’s hands are greedy. Eren bucks and writhes beautifully under his touch, letting himself be handled. He grabs Eren’s ass, spreading and kneading the cheeks, fingers just shy of touching the hole nestled between them; his cock twitches at the thought of it, of what it would feel like to bury himself in Eren.

Levi passes a moan into Eren’s mouth when he feels Eren’s hand on his cock. Slowly, gently he strokes it, and as he does so he pushes his tongue out to meet Levi’s.

Both their erections are straining by now, wet and rigid. Eren’s is curving up toward his flat stomach, a droplet of precum making its way slowly down the shaft.

They part, breathing heavily. Levi plants another kiss on Eren’s lips, before descending, mouth mapping out Eren’s torso as he goes. A hard nipple persuades him to halt, and he spends some time lavishing it with attention, much to the whimpering pleasure of Eren. He suckles it in his mouth, teasing it with a scraping of teeth, and it seems Eren likes it very much.

Finally, though, Levi continues his trek downwards. He places a kiss on Eren’s lower belly, excruciatingly close to the tip of Eren’s cock, smiling at the tightening of Eren’s abdominal muscles. He slides his hands down Eren’s thighs, caressing their soft insides, slightly paler than the rest of his body. Before he goes further, though, he looks up at Eren.

“Is this okay?”

Eren seems at a loss for words, instead he nods fervently, face red with embarrassment and arousal.

With trembling hands, Levi spreads Eren’s legs open. He lowers his head down between Eren’s thighs and gives the base of Eren’s cock a kiss. He moves further up, where it lies against Eren’s stomach, and gives the head a kiss, too, before darting his tongue out to get a sample taste; it makes Eren twitch, and Levi hears him whimper.

Holding the cock by its base, he angles it at his mouth. A drop of precum is making its way down the length, so Levi chases it, tongue trailing down to catch the fluid, then following it back to its source. Carefully, he works the tip of his tongue into the slit where the liquid is collecting. The lewdness of the action, coupled with Eren’s taste, makes Levi near delirious, the eroticism nearly too much to handle.

His heart is hammering faster and harder than it probably should be, and he must remind himself to take it easy, lest he has a heart attack from sucking cock––that’s definitely not how he wants to go.  

Eren moans at the feeling of the hot tongue, and all but sobs when Levi finally wraps his lips around the glans and guides him into his mouth, taking the length as far as he can without gagging. Levi lets the boy savour the delicious feeling of being taken whole, before he returns to the head, so that he can give the beautiful crown of his cock the attention it deserves.

He continues to tongue the slit, making it wetter and wetter with each pass, and Eren’s hips are twitching for it, clearly getting agitated. Levi takes pity on him and puts him back into his mouth, sucking, and caressing him with his tongue, thoroughly enjoying the taste and feel of him, and especially how Eren’s thighs have come up to encase him, panting as Levi works his mouth so diligently on his cock.

“Ah…Levi – you’re gonna make me cum,” Eren whimpers, one hand clutching Levi’s hair, the other bunching in the blankets as he is struggling not to buck up into Levi’s face.

Reluctantly, Levi eases off. He releases the cock; instead he licks wet stripes up and down the twitching length, before he gives another tender kiss to the tip, leaving him all wet and rosy, hard and twitching.

“Fuck, you’re good,” Eren breathes, incredulous.

“Thanks.”

That has Eren laughing, and although Levi feels like he should be feeling embarrassed, the laugh fills him with warmth. Eren sits up, impish smile on his face as he slips his arms over Levi’s shoulders, encircling him. He leans in close, bumping his nose against Levi’s. His eyes are still full of laughter.

“Kiss me?”

When Levi opens his mouth to comply, Eren pushes him down, and then his tongue is all slippery heat and sin against Levi’s.

They strike up a slow, tantalising rhythm; undulating hips, kisses, bites, moans, shared breaths. As it goes on, the tent becomes increasingly hotter.

“Fuck,” Eren pants, sitting up. He runs a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

Levi appreciates the view, grinning up at him; his hands wander up Eren’s thighs.  “What?”

“You gotta… I need you to…”

Instead of finishing the sentence, he guides both of Levi’s hands to his ass, so that his fingers dip into the crack. Eren’s gaze is heavy upon him.

“Please.”

It is a proposition Levi cannot turn down.

Rolling over, Levi has Eren under him again. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but Eren seems intent on what he wants, and Levi wants it too––desperately so.

Levi reaches for his case and takes out a phial of oil. He pours some into his palm to warm and, glancing at Eren, takes him back into his hand.

He strokes the cock slowly, spreading the lubricant on the flesh, enjoying the look of absolute pleasure on Eren’s face, and the quiet whimpers elicited. Eren closes his, eyes, hips stuttering into Levi’s hand when he tightens his grip, when he thumbs the head of his cock relentlessly.

Oil dribbles down Eren’s length, Levi follows it as it runs over his balls, until it finally reaches his entrance. Biting his lip, he dares to touch it with his thumb, gently rubbing the dribble of oil into the sweet, pink pucker. Eren gasps at the touch, opening his eyes and fixing them on Levi, who hesitates.

“Go on,” he says, almost inaudibly. “I want you to,” a little louder.

With express permission, Levi pours more oil, coating his fingers liberally with it. A hand still working Eren’s cock, he brings the other to his hole.

Slowly he inserts a finger, but when he feels Eren tense up, he pulls out. He slips it in once more, penetrating him shallowly to help him get used to it. It doesn’t take long, however, before Eren is opening up. Soon, Levi is able to slide a whole finger inside and Eren groans as it is sheathed, clenching around it, trying to make sense of the strange sensation. Levi pulls out too soon, but Eren doesn’t have to wait long before the digit is reinserted; Levi notes with elation how nicely his finger slips inside once again as Eren becomes more accommodating.

“Mm, that’s it.”

Watching Eren being penetrated is nearly hypnotic; Levi can hardly tear his eyes away from where his finger is disappearing into him. He shudders at the feel of him, cannot even begin to imagine what it must be like to slide himself into that heat.

Eren is starting to feel it; hips twitching in time with Levi’s motions. It gets better when Levi gets another finger in there. Eren likes that, he moans, bashful when Levi meets his gaze.

It makes Levi hot, how much Eren enjoys being fingered. It makes him imagine how beautifully he’ll squirm and twitch with a cock inside, how he’ll moan when he gets thoroughly fucked.

Levi scoots up to him, fingers still working down below. Eren’s face and neck are flushed from arousal and embarrassment, and he turns away from Levi’s smile; he’s in the mood to tease him a little.

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Look at me,” Levi mutters, turning Eren’s face back towards him so that he can look him in the eye. “How are my fingers? They feel good?”

The red on Eren’s face deepens, and he wants to shy away again, but Levi is holding him still, and his fingers are still moving. Levi can see the effect of them playing out on Eren’s face as they lock eyes; his features contorts in pleasure with every stroke from within. Eren opens his mouth to answer, but Levi is scissoring his fingers now, opening him up further, and a whimper is all that escapes.

Levi is getting riled up at the sight, and he leans in to taste Eren’s lips for the hundredth time, sweet and ripe.

“Do you like how they feel inside?” he whispers against Eren’ lips.

“Ah––yes. Fuck…” To Levi’s surprise, Eren’s fingers come down to caress the hand Levi is fucking him with. “Please don’t stop,” he says, “feels so good…”

Levi’s smile is smug.

“You’re _adorable_ , Eren.”

Laughing, Eren tugs him in for a kiss, teeth biting into his bottom lip.

“Fuck you,” he says, not a little impishly.

Eventually, Levi pulls his fingers out. From beneath a spillage of brown locks Eren’s eyes settle on Levi; they are glazed over with lust and pleasure.

Levi crawls over him again, and Eren offers up his lips eagerly, slipping his tongue into Levi’s mouth. A hand shoots up to caress the boy’s neck as Levi lets him do as he pleases; he could happily kiss Eren for eternity.       

Eren, however, has other plans. His hands travel down Levi’s back, down to his ass, pulling him closer, and arching in a bold suggestion.

Levi’s mouth descends on Eren’s neck. He licks a stripe up to his ear, into which he mutters, “Do you want it?”

He can feel the boy shiver beneath him, and he grinds into him harder than before. Levi lets a hand slip down the back of a smooth, tanned thigh, fingers inching towards a tight wanting hole.

Two fingers slide inside nicely, making Eren keen.

Whispering, “Do you want my cock here?”

Eren’s hole feels good and he wants more than fingers. He can feel Levi’s cock, hard and throbbing against his thigh, desperate to push into something nice and tight.

“I want it,” he manages in between gasps. Levi’s fingers are teasing a special little spot inside of him, and it feels amazing. “Your cock – ahh, please.”

Levi is busy sucking on a nipple, seemingly ignoring Eren’s pleas, though he bites down on the bud when the boy starts begging for cock. Levi looks up from his feast to see the debauched expression on Eren’s face.

“Hmm, I never thought you’d be this shameless, Eren,” he teases, pumping his fingers a few more times before withdrawing them.

There’s a glint in Eren’s eye.

“So you thought about me?”

Levi halts, realises what he has said.

“I did.”

Eren’s smile is cheeky as he spreads his legs for him, displaying the hole that Levi has fucked open with his fingers and the stiff cock resting on his stomach, its tip wet and inviting.

“I knew,” Eren says, hand sliding down his torso to take hold of his cock. He pumps it once, twice, closing his eyes in pleasure. Opening them again, he locks a smouldering gaze on Levi.

“I knew that you were watching me as I bathed. It made me excited…” he pumps himself again, a quiet whimper.

“Eren…”

Levi’s mind is completely blank; he can hardly fathom the creature before him, enticing him in such a way.

“I wanted you then… and I want you now.”

Fuck, he’s gonna end up having a stroke. Eren is turning out to be quite a tease––he might also turn out to be the very death of him.

Stupefied, Levi’s hands follow the smoothness of Eren's thighs towards their centre. His fingers brush against Eren’s balls; they twitch as his cock quivers, it pleases Levi to see. He reaches Eren’s hole and strokes it appreciatively with the pad of his thumb, stretching it open.

Levi is reaching for the oil again; making sure to wet his digits thoroughly before he slips a finger back into Eren, coating him on the inside, shuddering at the enticing heat of his flesh.

The remnants he puts on his own cock. The oil is slick, wondrous as he moves his hand to spread it on himself, a little cold at first, though it heats up quickly on his erection. The tip is a dark red, shaft hard and yearning to be encased in Eren’s tightness.

Levi takes some time coating his flesh, savouring the feeling, though he knows there is something much better waiting. Eren watches him as he does it, eyes heavy, and Levi cannot look away, moaning as he pumps his cock in front of the boy, who lies with legs spread for him, want etched onto his every feature; it is a filthy, arousing sight.

Eren’s gaze is as hot as a fire; it rakes down Levi’s torso, halting at the juncture of his thighs, where he is pleasuring himself. His lips part slightly, but only a low breath escapes.

When he cannot bear it any longer, Levi puts the head of his cock onto the slick hole, and breathes deeply to calm himself––he is nervous again.

Hesitating only for a moment, he leans down and cups Eren’s face in his hands, his nose pressed against the other’s. Being this close, the colour of Eren’s eyes is even more striking and Levi nearly forgets himself peering into the green.

“You sure you want this?” he whispers.

Eren swallows, suddenly serious as he meets Levi’s eyes.   

“Yeah. Do you?”

Levi nods, wets his lips.

“Yes. Very much.”

Eren smiles and touches his lips to Levi’s in a sweet kiss.

“Then do it,” he says, and curls his arms around Levi’s neck, whispering hotly into his ear, “Fuck me.”

At the invitation, there is only one thing to do: sinking down into the welcoming heat. Inch by delicious inch, Eren swallows his cock and envelops it tightly, all the while whimpering into Levi’s ear as he takes it.

“Oh, god... Levi…”

Levi keeps going, head buried in the crook of Eren’s neck, until he’s bottomed out, and Eren is moaning at the full feeling. Levi lifts his head to gaze down upon Eren; cheeks dusted pink.

“You okay?”

“Mn, yes.”

There is a new dark quality to Eren’s eyes, chest rising and falling in a way that reveals his intense pleasure, the pleasure of being filled for the first time.   

Levi sees it, and it has him hardening inside the boy. He gets lewd; spreading the supple thighs wide so that he can see where they are connected better, to get a better view of the entirety of Eren’s beautiful body.

Eren looks up at him from beneath lidded eyes, letting out a soft moan as he is being spread open; from the look of his cock, twitching and dripping onto his stomach, he likes what is being done to him.

Levi hums in satisfaction, hips staying still despite his desire to move. He trails a hand from the boy’s chest to his lower belly, teasing his cock with only the ghost of a touch.

“You look good like that,” he mutters, and cannot help a slow roll of his hips. It has Eren open his mouth in a gasp and his eyes go wide at the first movement inside him. Levi does it again, hand still on the boy’s stomach; trying to assess his reaction.

“You like it?”

Eren nods and lifts a hand to his mouth, fingers slipping inside as he lets out a whimper, perhaps trying to stifle the sound, or perhaps in order to rile Levi up––it is successful in the latter.

“Ah, fuck… feels good,” Eren breathes, hand falling away from his mouth. “Please.”

At that, Levi finally starts moving his hips in long, slow strokes, hoping to make Eren accustomed to the penetration. There is also the prideful desire to make Eren, slowly and thoroughly, familiar with the full slide of his cock, for him to know, intimately, the shape and length of him.

His own enjoyment is immense; Eren is tight and hot and perfect around him, and although he never considered himself to be such a man, the knowledge of him being Eren’s first adds a thrilling element to the experience.

Eren holds him tight; securing their bodies flush together. His hands roam Levi’s back, migrating down to his ass to have him press closer, urging him to go _harder_. Soon, he is releasing a breathless string of phrases, _“levi… feels good, fuck me, oh there, don’t stop, please_ , _”_ that makes Levi’s mind swirl with lust.

Levi makes sure his thrusts are deep, that he is swallowed to the root, balls pushed up against Eren’s hole, only to stay there for a short moment; basking in the incredible feel of his ass.

Levi continues the slow fucking, his face buried in the boy’s neck as he takes his pleasure; Eren moans and whimpers so sweetly every time he is penetrated.

“You feel amazing,” he breathes into Eren’s neck, and he truly does, too good to be true.

Then Eren’s hands are on Levi’s face, coaxing him up so that they can share a kiss, all heat and tongue.

Eren’s cock rubs against his nakedness; it lies flushed and hard on his tanned stomach; wet and twitching every time Levi slides home. It excites Levi further, seeing how turned on Eren is, seeing how the tip of his cock glistens with moisture. He knows he’s leaking precum himself because the slide into Eren has become easier, wetter.

It becomes too much, and he finds himself thrusting harder; balls slapping noisily against Eren’s ass whenever he buries himself in his hole. The sound is even wetter than before and it spurs him on, he groans as his hips gain momentum.

Levi gazes down upon the boy, who seems lost to pleasure. Sweat is dribbling down his neck and Levi lowers himself to taste it, trailing his tongue up to Eren’s jaw. He takes his mouth, kisses him with tongue and teeth, while partaking of him below, too. Eren can only moan, sob, as he is taken; the feeling of his first fuck, his first cock so intense he can hardly bear it.

“There,” he whispers onto Levi’s tongue. “Right there.”

Levi grinds into him, deep as he can go.

“Here?” voice a low murmur.

In lieu of an answer, Eren clenches around him and bites his lip in an attempt to stifle his moans, which escape him anyway, pretty as he gets his prostrate worked by Levi’s cock.

“Haa-ah, _fuck_ …” he locks his legs behind Levi, wanting him to push deeper, to press against him harder. He gets impatient.

Suddenly, Eren sits up, pushing at Levi’s chest until he slips out––both of them groan at the loss––and then Levi finds himself on his back.

Eren crawls over him, leaning down for a kiss.

“I want to ride you,” he grins.

Levi chuckles, looking at the enchanting man perched atop him.

“Mm, I’d love that.”

His hands find their way to Eren’s thighs, trailing along the soft skin to his hips; hips that he would rather have bouncing on his lap sooner than later.

Eren kisses him again, sinfully; he bites his bottom lip, getting cheeky as he pulls on it.

Eren grinds his hips into Levi’s; their cocks slide together, rock hard and slippery. Levi’s hands are on Eren’s ass, massaging and securing him tightly, hips locking together in a delicious undulating sway.

Eren’s mouth moves from Levi’s lips down to his neck, where he sucks and licks, loving the taste of his skin. He bites too, leaving bruises in his wake, all the while that maddening rocking of their hips is kept up.

“God, you’re so good,” Levi moans.

Eren gives a breathy laugh, lifting his head to show off those green eyes; lidded and glittering with mischief.

“Thanks.”

The creature captures Levi’s lips once again, before he sits back, Levi’s cock between the cheeks of his ass.

“I want this again,” he whispers.

Levi swallows, not sure where to fasten his gaze; the green eyes, the pert nipples, the beautiful abdomen, those strong sinuous thighs, or the red leaking cock, so hard between his legs.

“Put it in yourself,” he says, and it is evidently the right thing to say, because Eren shivers, and closes his eyes.

The boy curls his fingers around Levi’s shaft, puts the tip to his hole, lips parting as he slips the head back inside, falling open on a gasp when the length of it slides home with nearly no resistance, and he swallows the thing whole.

Eren moans, hole clenching around the base of the cock that is sheathed inside him, and Levi cannot help but rock his hips up into that tight hole, so that Eren cries out. In turn, Eren lifts himself up, only to slam down onto him in retaliation, clenching his hole again, and grinding his hips.

Slowly, he starts bouncing in Levi’s lap. He finds a rhythm quickly, and gets comfortable. Levi guides his hips, gaze slipping down to where his cock is swallowed time and again.

Eren is whimpering now, the tip of Levi’s dick hitting his prostrate more acutely in this position. The way Eren moves atop him is mesmerising, he rides Levi’s cock with vigour, not like the virgin he is. Watching the boy fuck himself like this is getting to be too much, and Levi finds himself worrying that he might spend soon.

But after a while, Eren’s thighs are getting tired, and he cannot keep up the rhythm any longer. He curls over Levi’s chest, whose arms wrap around him. Then Levi lets his hips take over. He holds Eren close to his chest; his cock rubs against Levi’s stomach, leaving a wet trail there and Eren sobs as he is fucked nice and hard.

“God, I’m gonna come, Levi. God, you’re gonna make me come,” he chokes out, breath hot and wet on Levi’s collarbone.

Levi is close, too. The rhythm of his hips is getting erratic, desperate as he searches for release.

“Ahh, shit, me too.”

His hands are down on Eren’s ass, squeezing him and bouncing him on his cock; the wet _slap slap slap_ is making his balls tighten, and he knows he’s going to come soon.

Eren whines, saying, _yes, oh, right there, god, right there, you feel so good…_

“Fuck.”

Levi pulls out, the loss of stimulation making him want to plunge in again immediately, but he stills himself as he turns Eren over. Eren quickly gets the picture and lets himself be arranged on his hands and feet.

“There,” Levi whispers, voice hoarse and laden with lust.

His hands glide over the tan, globes before him, spreads them so that he can give the hole he has just been inside a kiss; a full body shudder runs through Eren.

Levi drapes himself over Eren, smelling the nape of his neck, licking the sweat off his skin. He can feel the boy shivering beneath him, against him, breath hitching when he feels the heat of Levi’s cock against his ass, close to his hole, just shy of slipping inside.

“Put it back in,” Eren moans.

Levi murmurs in his ear, “I will…”

Eren whimpers as Levi’s hand closes around his cock, squeezing him gently. He is so close, he’ll come any second, but he wants Levi inside. He rubs back against the hard cock that had been inside him only a minute ago, filling him up so deliciously.

Eren turns his head to look at Levi with molten eyes and sweat on his brow, looking utterly debauched.

“Please. I want to come.”

Struck by the power of Eren’s gaze, Levi lets his hips take over, guiding him back inside, groaning at the tight, tight feel of him. When he is fully inside, he wraps an arm around Eren’s chest, presses a kiss to his neck, and starts fucking him _hard_ , holding the boy securely in place to take everything he’s got.

And Eren takes it, he takes it so nicely, moaning and crying out whenever Levi hits that special spot inside him that sets his body afire. Eventually, he is too weak to keep himself upright, and Levi lowers him down.

Eren is held tight as he is fucked to completion, Levi’s hand rubbing his cock wetly, noisily, until pleasure is flooding his entire body and he cries out, coming hard, white, hot spurts into Levi’s welcoming hand.

Levi is still moving, searching for his own release, groaning, close, before he slides home one more time. He is tempted to empty himself into Eren, but he knows it would be a pain for Eren, and so, thanks to the small amount of sanity he has left after everything, he pulls out, painting instead Eren’s thighs with thick white streaks of cum.

Like Eren, he is tempted to collapse in a heap, but he has the sense to search for a cloth, dunking it with water in order to clean Eren and himself off.

Limply, Eren complies as Levi carefully runs the wet cloth over his skin. Levi’s breath is still irregular, but his body is slowly calming, blood not rushing anymore. The dandelion haze is gone, and something else is starting to creep over him.

Whatever it is, he cannot ruminate on it further; Eren takes Levi’s hand and pulls him down beside him, draping a blanket over them both. The feeling of Eren, warm against him, is comforting. Utterly sated, and reassured by the steady beat of Eren’s heart, Levi feels himself slipping away.

Whatever it is reaching for him, exhaustion overtakes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hooh boy, this is 6000+ words worth of pure smut.. i struggled so much to write this, like wtf i don't remember how to write smut. i am so sorry. mother forgive me


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When I pass through the leg high grass, I shall die_   
>  _Under the jasmine, I shall die_   
>  _In the elder tree_   
>  _I need not try to prepare for a new coming day_   
>  _Where is it that fills the deepness I feel?_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> \- Sibylle Baier, "I Lost Something in the Hills"

It is the first time Levi can remember waking up with Eren beside him. Usually, he is already up and about when Levi stirs. Now, however, he is still sleeping, a peaceful look on his face, long lashes soft against his skin. Levi gets a good look at Eren’s freckles, scattered across his nose. His hair is tousled from sleep, and lovemaking––Levi remembers the feel of his fingers tangled in the soft, brown locks––a few strands rest on Eren’s forehead, curling in a way that has Levi marvelling at the sheer adoration this simple detail instils within him. Eren lets out a sigh, and his lips settle in a sort of pout.

There is something about Eren like this, sleeping so innocently, that pulls at Levi’s heartstrings. It’s a warm painful feeling because Eren looks so vulnerable and so tender that it frightens Levi. Failing, he tries to dissect the anxiety in his stomach.

His gaze is drawn to Eren’s arm that lies between them. Around his hand, the linen wrappings have come loose. It takes only a slight tug and Eren’s palm is revealed, smooth and pink; it is fully healed.

It does not surprise Levi.

Idly, he traces a pattern in Eren’s palm. The gash had been deep, it could have done with stitches, and yet there is no sign of an injury ever offending him, except perhaps the rosy skin, a little tender to the touch.

Sure and sudden: Eren is Levi’s opposite.

Where Levi’s body is slowly decaying, Eren’s is imbued with life; his body so easily defying natural laws so that he will stay alive, so anxious to heal him, so anxious to keep him. Eren is a remarkable human being, more so than Levi can fathom, and it twists his stomach into knots.

Levi doesn’t realise it at first, but he recognises the pattern he is tracing as a sigil that he has traced a number of times onto parchments and carved into wood, magical runes he has sold for a pretty penny; magical runes he strictly does not believe in, yet here he lies in the half-light, tracing a sigil of protection onto Eren’s tender skin.

When Eren stirs, Levi quickly withdraws his hand.

Eren’s eyelids flutter, opening slowly. Eyes puffy from sleep, he smiles at Levi and pulls himself closer, making Levi’s heart stutter.

“Morning,” Eren says, and places a kiss on Levi’s mouth before Levi can object; it is hard to resist the boy, so warm and so naked against him.

A cheeky tongue traces his bottom lip, asking for entrance, and Levi knows that it is unwise, that he shouldn’t let this evolve further, but Levi is a weak, selfish, dying man, and Eren feels heavenly against him, so in a lapse of judgment, he lets him in, lets him draw even nearer, until they are pressed against one another, skin on skin, where Levi can feel Eren’s interest against his own.

Arousal boils in the bottom of Levi’s stomach, but he can’t.

“Morning,” he says as he pulls away, disentangling himself.

Quickly, he sits up, avoiding Eren’s gaze. He runs a hand through his hair and exhales.

There is a hurt behind his eyes, a slow, throbbing, hurt.

“What’s wrong?”

Levi can hear the worry threaded in Eren’s voice.

He shakes his head.

“Nothing.”

“Levi.”

The change in Eren’s tone of voice gives him pause; it is hard and demanding and makes Levi turn to him.

Eren is truly something to behold; bare chested, his tan skin on display, dark brown nipples that Levi tasted last night, brown locks framing his pretty face, impossibly green eyes staring him down, still looking soft with sleep.

Levi says, voice a little hoarse, “This is… strange to me, that’s all.”

“What is?”

There is no way to tell the truth, so he settles for a half-truth.

“Well… I’ve never stayed with anyone for very long after…”

Eren raises an eyebrow.

“Really?”

Levi feels uncomfortable. He shrugs, saying, somewhat defensively, “Well, what’s the point, when I’m leaving the next day.”

“…So you mean, if you weren’t stuck with me, if we’d met under other circumstances, you would have just left in the middle of the night?”

Shrugging again.

"Probably.”

_Probable, but not likely._

Eren looks at him; Levi avoids his gaze.

“That’s so… cold.”

“I guess that’s just who I am––a cold person,” Levi snaps. There are other more venomous words on his tongue that he considers, but despite his frustration he doesn’t want to hurt Eren.

“No––I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” Eren sighs and a silence follows. Levi hears Eren draw a breath. “You’re not a cold person.”

A laugh. “How could you, of all people, say that? I haven’t treated you very nicely, have I.”

“A cold person wouldn’t have helped me. A cold person would have just left me in Raven’s Roost. You’re a good man.”

Levi’s heart clenches.

“I’ve done bad things.”

“So have I,” says Eren, steely eyed and certain. “Despite it all, I don’t think that made me a bad person. We do what we need to do.”

“And sometimes we let selfish desires get the better of us.”

Levi finds his clothes, discarded in a passion the night before, and curtly pulls them on, not uttering a word more. He doesn’t look at Eren, doesn’t dare to, and excuses himself as he leaves the tent.

What meets him outside is a greywhite morning––damp and cold. He can hear the rushing of the river nearby, but otherwise it is quiet, eerily so.

A white mist hangs in between the trees, wrapping the forest in a shroud. All has lost its colour to the rain, washed away in the dead of night. What remains is the black of the tree and the moss and the earth; his palm comes away black when he leans on a trunk for support.

The forest a-wake; though no birds, no dirge on this miserable morning.

Levi moves through the mist, its whiteness does not allow him to see very far ahead, and then he is at the river.

It is just as furious as the day before, still frothing like an infernal beast, incensed with its failure to devour them. Looking at it now, Levi cannot readily understand how they had escaped its fury.

He shouldn’t be standing on this side.

If he had set out from Raven’s Roost on his own, he wouldn’t be.

He can barely make out the bank on the other side; the mist hangs thick there, a white sheet drawn taut.

Levi listens, he looks. He surrenders to the roaring, violent absence.

Staring over at the other side, he grows increasingly afraid.

The whiteness is so vast, incomprehensible in its all-encompassing nature. Anything could be waiting on the other side of it. Anything could be hiding behind it, perhaps moving towards him in this very moment.

It could crawl down and into the water without him ever knowing, and emerge, crooked and dripping before him and it would be too late.

Levi stands frozen in place, unable to tear his sight from the whiteness seeking to overwrite the real. His mind, again, seems to flee from him, getting lost in the mist; he is an infected wound leaking into the periphery.

Leaking, he becomes certain that something is approaching from the other side. He cannot see it, or hear it, but he can feel it in his very being, as a movement within himself.

It is drawing closer, inevitable. And Levi cannot run from it for much longer.

He claws at his breast pocket, retrieving the phial with the single dried flower.

Its colour is pale; he imagines that, alive it must have been a vibrant blue, like cobalt. Had he been looking for the wrong shade of blue all this time? Nothing keeps. Although, there may be one exception. 

The glass is cold in his palm; it bites into him.

This tiny, dead thing had been a promise of life. For so long, this tiny, dead thing had been his only hope. A tiny, fragile, dead hope.

The reassurance it once gave him cannot exist on this vacant morning; instead it has become a mockery. He feels foolish for still clinging on to it. The urge to throw it away vibrates through his body, shakes him to his core. And yet…

Levi releases a bitter breath, fumes from his rotting insides that leave a foul taste in his mouth––when they kissed, did Eren taste the rot on his tongue?

The living shouldn’t associate with the dying. It is not fair.

He had, up until now, entertained for himself an end of quiet dignity, that he would slink away into the wild alone, and in the event of a failed search, he would, like an ill beast, find a quiet spot to die.

That had been the plan, but enter Eren: an unknown factor. The equation no longer worked.

Now, standing at the brink, Levi hungers. He has become too greedy, too selfish; even though he has already been claimed, destined for some other place, he partakes of what is offered in this realm, of which he no longer truly belongs. He knows enough from the tales he has heard that one should never partake of that which belongs to another realm; but Levi has been too weak to heed that ancient warning.

The tiny, dead thing, Levi’s hand has cramped around it. In his blind greed, he cannot let it go.

“Levi?”

With a start, Levi turns. Eren is there––of course, who else––coming out of the trees.

He looks hesitant, worry on his brow.

“There’s breakfast, if you want it.”

Levi is silent, how to summon words...

“What are you doing?”

“Ah… nothing.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“Are you coming?”

“Yes.”

In complete silence, Levi follows Eren back to the campsite where breakfast is waiting. Levi accepts the plate that Eren offers him although he has not appetite to speak of.

“We’re almost out of provisions,” Eren says, sitting down next to him with his own portion. Levi’s gaze is fixed on the broth.

“Hm.”

“We’re gonna be in trouble if we don’t do something about that.”

“Yeah…”

There’s a heavy sigh and a clanking noise. Levi tenses up.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

Again, that demanding voice, but there is a tremble to it this time, it is strong yet fragile.

Although he knows he will regret it, he lifts his head to look at Eren.

He is pale, as if this day has stolen some of his colour, too. It makes Levi wonder what he must look like––a ghost? a man fading into the background? has he become transparent yet?

"Last night you kissed me. Last night we... Why are you being so distant now?”

Levi closes his eyes, bites his tongue to prevent words from escaping, but they defy him the moment he lets go.

“I… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?”

Levi can’t look at Eren, he feels so ashamed. He needs to push Eren away, though his arms are weak.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I made a mistake.”

A fact: Eren is stronger than him.

“Why?” Eren demands. “Why was it a mistake? You talk about selfish desires, but we both wanted it. You didn’t take advantage of me if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He feels a headache approaching, an irregular sharp throbbing behind his forehead; cold-sweat breaking out like a premonition.

“No––Eren… you don’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t! You’re not telling me anything!”

Levi jumps up, untouched plate flying.

“Well, look how the tables have turned!”

He stands, hands clenched at his sides, glaring at the infuriating boy, heart racing so hard he thinks maybe this is it, and for half a second he wishes for it, wishes that he would drop dead and be done with it, rather than enduring this drawn out half-life.

Eren’s face goes cold.

“That’s unfair. The reason why I can’t tell you about myself is because I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“And what makes you think that my reason is so different?”

Though, saying it, Levi knows that it is more for himself than for Eren that he has kept quiet. He can’t envision himself saying the words ‘I am dying’ to anyone, can barely even think about it. It had taken him a long time, too long perhaps, before he could even admit it to himself.

It is better to have Eren’s anger directed at him than his sorrow, than his pity. This is a burden Levi will bear alone.

Eren stands, too, meeting his glare squarely.

“You are hurting me now. Saying you regret it, saying it was a mistake…I thought…” his voice quivers, “was it just a fuck to you?”

It’s a slap to Levi’s face.

Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t just a fuck. And Eren’s words imply that it wasn’t just a fuck to him either.

But he can’t say that, it wouldn’t be fair. It would only make things worse.

_Ah, I’ve really messed up, haven’t I…_

He feels light-headed and nauseous; he has to concentrate in order to focus on Eren. A familiar pain starts to bloom in his chest; it spreads with each rapid beat of his heart.

Has cruel providence seen fit to grant his wish? Oh, but he regrets it…

“Eren… Trust me, I–”

“How can I? I don’t know you.”

Eren’s eyes have grown so cold it hurts to meet them.

_So cruel._

Levi’s knees give out under him as the world starts spinning and his chest catches on fire.

“Levi? What’s wrong?”

He can feel Eren’s panicked hands; his vision has gone dark.

“Just… let me––”

________

Levi wakes in the tent. Daylight has gone but an oil lamp is burning; he watches the flame, steady in its container. Observing it, his mind slowly returns, and with it the recent memory of Eren’s cold, cold eyes, quivering voice betraying his hurt.

“This is the second time,” comes Eren’s voice, steady now.

Levi realises that his head is resting in Eren’s lap. It is warm, and a hand is gently brushing his hair from his forehead. Looking up, he finds Eren staring down at him with a pensive expression; to Levi’s immense relief, his eyes are no longer cold like before. They are tender with care and that hurts in a wholly different way.

Levi swallows, his mouth terribly dry. He croaks out, “Anaemia,” and hopes that Eren will be satisfied with that.

“Anaemia,” Eren echoes, reaching for a water skin that he hands to Levi.

He helps him sit up so that he can drink; Levi empties the entire thing.

Eren hasn’t stopped scrutinising him even for a second. Shamefaced, Levi meets his gaze.

He feels weak, weaker than ever before. The pain has receded, but it hasn’t gone; it glows like an ember now, low, and waiting to be stoked.

Levi opens his mouth, breathes. Eren waits, expectantly, eyes flickering around Levi’s face––it’s a look Levi has seen before, it’s a look that gathers.

“I’m sorry, Eren… Can I ask you a favour?”

An intake of breath.

“Of course.”

Levi wants to bite his tongue, to prevent himself from saying what he has to say. He calls upon the little strength he has left and pulls the words out with effort; his voice is small and weary, the sound of it alarms him.

“Please… can we forget this? All of this… You have a place to be, right? People who depend on you… I won’t delay or distract you any further. In the morning we’ll continue on. Just… let me rest for a bit.”

The hand in his hair stills.

Levi determines,

_I’ll have to postpone dying until we reach Neverwinter. Take him to the gates, say your goodbyes, watch him go easy… Then I may die. He’ll never know. And those who bury me won’t care. I will not dole out any woes; that is one merit of this sorry life of mine._

“Forget?”

Levi pretends he doesn’t hear it, the pure incredulity Eren has poured into the word, because it doesn’t work with Levi’s plans; because it echoes in his ear far too long, because it makes his chest feel warm despite everything.     

His head sinks back to Eren’s lap because it is getting a little too heavy for Levi to carry on his own; though he knows he will have to for some time longer. But for now, Eren’s warmth beckons and he gives in––just for a little while, he allows himself this respite.

Levi on the brink of unconsciousness; he feels Eren’s hand in his hair, and a whisper,

"All right, Levi...”

And he slips away into a fretful sleep.

A few hours later, probably, he wakes once more, this time to a dark tent. He is cold and Eren isn’t there.

He closes his eyes and listens, but in the darkness he can hear no other sounds than the occasional quiver of the tarp, the whispering trees, the crickets...

Where did Eren go? Is he sleeping outside? Perhaps he doesn’t want to be near me anymore…

Levi shivers in his bedroll. Summer nights are cold in the mountains, he has become so accustomed to the warmth of Eren that he had almost forgotten…

Was it merely Eren’s warmth that attracted him so, the comfort of his body?

…

Is it Eren that he wants, or is it the life within him that he covets so?

The questions haunt, holding sleep at bay.

Levi listens and waits, trying to discern the sound of footfalls, Eren’s breathing, but it is only the night that breathes dark and vast around him, and for the very first time in many years, Levi feels utterly alone as he lies listening to his uneven breath.

________

The next few days are strange and close. Above, clouds have amassed to form a uniform grey cover, trapping the heat down in the valley with them. There’s a constant layer of sweat clinging to Levi’s skin, even after he has bathed it is there. The heat and the humidity are harsh on his struggling lungs, it feels like he cannot draw breath, like he is slowly suffocating.

Levi had intended to set a brisk pace for them, but it is getting increasingly difficult for him keep the desired tempo. Frequently they stop so that he can rest; he has learnt from before. Besides, he has a grave suspicion that the next time he passes out might well be the last.

They are nearing the end of the valley. Soon they will have to climb the hills, and then Neverwinter would be waiting on the other side. Soon they will arrive at their destination.

Eren keeps his distance.

They don’t speak much, only polite conversation. It is as if nothing has happened, forgotten––Eren keeps his word.

Eren looks weary, too. Often Levi will wake in the middle of the night to find himself alone, Eren’s bedroll empty beside him. Sometimes he crawls back into the tent in the early hours of the morning, sometimes he does not return; Levi sees him at breakfast, when Eren directs a wan smile at him and offers him what little food they have left.

Levi doesn’t ask. He assumes that Eren is avoiding him, that he cannot stand the thought of sleeping next to him any longer. Levi convinces himself that he does not regret his decision. It is the right thing to do.

If only he hadn’t been such a fool. He should never have kissed him, tasted him, touched him like that…

Forget?

What a bitter word.

_________

He is hiding something, but so am I. Who am I to demand that he confide in me? Still… if I told him he would be in danger. Knowing about me has never boded well for anyone.

I am a curse. I bring only death, I carry it within me, a dreadful passenger.

If I told him would he be repulsed? Afraid? How would he look at me then? I cannot bear to think of it…

He is unwell. He tires quickly, he sleeps a lot, and his breathing is so heavy. I do not know what ails him, but it causes him great pain. Lately, it seems to be getting worse. I am scared for him.

He held me so tight, only to push me away; something cold came between him and me and he told me to forget. As if I could.

Maybe I can woo him still––perhaps with a flower.

But to what end? It is not safe to be with me. I shouldn’t inflict my presence upon him more than I have to. Only until we reach Neverwinter.

Perhaps this is for the best.

Perhaps I should forget.

_________

It is something quite unique watching life bloom all around you while your own is steadily receding. Heedlessly, life goes on. It is a beautiful kind of cruelty.

Levi sits with his back against a great goat willow; its thick canopy provides ample shade, making a quiet green place for him to rest.

He watches the fluffy seeds that are shed from the tree tumbling through the air like fresh snow, as if the seasons are confused––fresh snow on a sweltering summer day. Levi appreciates the phenomenon.

The memory of winter, the termination of growth, here found nestled within this sign of life, of rebirth.

Watching it, a sense of peace falls over him. He draws a deep breath that hurts and smiles. He falls asleep against the trunk of the willow.

Eren rouses him when it is time to leave. There are snowflakes in his hair.

________

As it turns out, the mountain has more surprises in store for them.

Levi is drowsing again, comfortably warmed by the afternoon sun peeking down at him through the leaves above. He is in a half-asleep, half-awake state, consciousness infused with the safe green of the forest. He hears a voice from afar, calling his name. It persists, getting louder and louder, until it pulls him back to the present. Eren is beaming down at him; the colour of his eyes is the same as his dream; its warmth lingers.

Levi sits up, rubbing his face.

“What? What is it? How long was I out for?”

He had only intended to take a quick nap.

“Wait.” Eren crouches down in front of him. “Close your eyes again,” he says, clearly excited.

Levi blinks, head still muddled from sleep.

“What?”

Eren moves in closer.

“Close your eyes,” he insists, smiling.

Not knowing what to think, Levi does as he is told.

“Now what?”

But there is no answer. Instead he can feel Eren moving even closer, a shift in the air between them. The proximity is unexpected, as they have both avoided physical contact with the other for the last few days. Instinctively Levi’s body tenses up, heart jolting, but then there is a sharp, unexpected smell in his nostrils and his eyes fly open immediately.

What he registers first is Eren’s bright, blinding smile. Next, his eyes fall upon the impossibly, unbelievably blue flowers that lie resting in Eren’s palms.

This is…

Levi, shaking, softly takes Eren’s hands, lowering them a little, staring at the blue as if expecting it to disappear.

He lifts his eyes to Eren’s.

_Am I still dreaming?_

Levi doesn’t dare utter the word, but he doesn’t have to.

“Dragonshead,” Eren confirms, and the look in his eyes is kind and warm.

There he sits, his unlikely saviour, laughing easily, with his hands outstretched towards him, unaware that he is cradling Levi’s life in his palms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear, i never intended this story to become so serious and angsty. like, in the beginning it was all frolicking and sunshine but now it has become one messy contemplation on death. i've had some time to think about death and loss this summer, waiting for it beneath blossoming apple trees. i am fine. please bear with me


	7. Chapter 7

What currently grounds Levi is the grip he has on Eren’s hands. He feels like, if he were to let go, he would simply dissolve and float away on the wind, or perhaps Eren would vanish, like the apparition he so surely must be.

Yet Eren’s hands are warm and solid, proof that he is not a vision. Eren’s hands are real and it seems right that he should be holding them in his own.

And, in Eren’s hands: the dragonshead.

Levi had quietly arrived at a conclusion. He had looked back at all the signs and thought that, actually, it all made sense; he was destined to die here in these mountains. It seemed to him that fate had decided that his time was up, and so over the last few days, he had slowly reconciled himself with the idea of death, had begun to prepare, waited with bated breath. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for Eren.

But then, the signs, had they meant nothing? Or merely something else? Had he misinterpreted his surroundings so thoroughly? Eren entering into his life was not the advent of chaos, rather a radical change for the better, a renewal of life. Or perhaps you cannot read life like he has attempted to do since before he can remember…

“I… I can’t believe it.”

Eren’s eyebrows rise.

“You better believe it,” and gets to his feet. He walks over to Levi’s case, retrieving a glass container for the flowers. “I looked for it day and night.”

The lilac exhaustion beneath Eren’s eyes, the empty bedroll in the middle of the night, his many absences… all explained. Not hate, then…

Levi’s heart is hammering violently now, as if in celebration, overjoyed that it has the chance to keep beating perhaps longer than it had expected to. It is so loud it frightens him; it is the sound of brazen hope.

He needs to say something, to somehow convey the uproar within him, but how? What words could he use? He does not trust his voice to carry them. He would rather pull Eren to him…

… and then what? He had lost the right to be intimate with Eren.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Eren turns to him, a teasing smile curving his lips. And Levi stares and stares and stares.

Eventually, “Thank you.”

A poor approximation of his feelings.

Eren comes back and sits down beside him in the grass, cross-legged. He gives the glass container to Levi, full of blue flowers, and Levi accepts it, hands trembling.

“It’s the least I could do,” Eren says. “I mean, as thanks for bringing me with you. I’ve… felt bad for causing you so much trouble.”

His hands are clasped together in his lap as he speaks, gaze fixed upon them.

A pause.

“Well… I guess we’re even then.”

Eren meets his eye, uncertainty gone from his features. Indeed, he looks relieved.

“I’m glad I could be of help. Admittedly, I had my doubts––it’s a rare flower after all. But I’m good at this, gathering.” Eren smile is sweet. “Apparently even better than you.”

Levi quirks an eyebrow at that, eyes glinting with amusement.

“And here I thought you were trying to get on my good side.”

“What are you talking about, am I not already on your good side?”

They laugh and Eren's eyes do not stray from his; Levi feels light. He realises that they are flirting.

_This is dangerous._

He removes his eyes from Eren’s and gets to his feet.

“Well, I… I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I’ll go get some firewood.”

“Wait,” Eren rises too. “Before that, let me show you where I found them. I didn’t pick them all.”

Eren takes Levi’s hand and Levi lets him.

Eren leads him to a stream that has carved itself so far into the ground that it is hard to spot immediately, with banks overgrown, all shrubs and tall grass; it is the cheerful murmuring that gives the waters away. Next to the secret stream, the softest patch of grass, uncommon here in these parts––it looks unnatural next to the coarse heather that covers most of the forest floor. On this soft bed of grass the dragonshead grows.

“They are truly beautiful,” says Eren when they come to a stop.

Levi kneels, reaching out to touch one of the blossoms, still unbelieving.

“Yeah…”

“You’ll be rich when we get to Neverwinter, huh?

“I guess so.”

Levi rises, catching the bemused expression on Erens face.

“Thank you,” he says again, wishing that he could say more, that he could tell Eren exactly what the dragonshead signifies. His words are so meagre, meaningless.  

Eren smiles and nods, curious expression still intact.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, nearly shy. He hesitates, then turns. “I’ll… I’ll go prepare something to eat, if you’re still hungry.”

“Eren.”

“Yes?”

He halts, turns to Levi.

“I… we’ll be there soon now. I know you’ve been worried, but a day or two more, and we’ll be in Neverwinter. It’s all that I can do for you in return, I’m afraid.”

Eren opens his mouth as if to answer. He frowns.

“I – you don’t owe me anything, Levi… You said so yourself, we’re even, right?”

Levi struggles to come up with an answer; he is not quick enough.

“You bringing me to Neverwinter is all I need. And then… I’ll be out of your hair.” The corners of Eren’s mouth twitch, a caricature of a smile. He turns again, and says, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Levi watches him go. He remains standing for a long while, feeling the air around him thick with all the things he should have said, his lungs and his heart heavy with his own stupidity.

With great reverence, Levi harvests the flowers, hands trembling as he cuts the stems; he is blinking back tears of wonder. When he is finished––he doesn’t pick them all, leaving a few behind––he makes himself comfortable on the soft grass.

Slowly, it sinks in: they found it––Eren found it.

Levi is so overwhelmed he is nearly sick––with joy, with fear; there is life ahead of him yet.

The dragonshead is a vibrant blue; he has never seen such an intense hue before. He brushes a gentle finger along the petals; soft like velvet. He can hardly tear his eyes from them. How strange to think that this small thing holds the power to heal him, that this beautifully indifferent flower could give him life.

If the stream giving them sustenance had not carved itself so deeply into the ground over countless lifetimes, it too would have overflowed with the violent rains, and possibly drowned the precious flowers.

Was it sheer luck? That the flowers were intact after the storm, that Eren had happened upon them in the afternoon sun?

Levi would never have found them on his own. On his own he would not even have made it this far. It wasn’t luck. It was Eren. Eren had given him another chance.

Levi has to remind himself, however, that he’s not safe just yet.

Sure, the dragonshead has been given to him, but it remains to be seen if he can make the medicine correctly and in time. It will take him a day at least, most likely two, and he and Eren are both running out of time. He hasn’t forgotten the promise he made to Eren, that he would delay him no further; he intends to keep that promise.

There’s no other option, he will have to make the potion when they arrive in Neverwinter––hopefully he will survive that long.

The recipe is printed neatly in the grimoire handed down to him by his guardian; he has read through it, agonising over every detail a countless amount of times, so he knows it by heart. Even though it requires one remarkably rare ingredient, the rest are common herbs and extracts that he always carries with him. Levi trusts the recipe implicitly, even though the book contains many a text that he has scoffed over in the past, superstitious nonsense, but he has still performed the rituals as instructed for believing customers willing to pay a handsome coin.

But he has no reason to doubt his guardian’s expertise in medicine, and even if he did, all he can do now is to trust that it will be effective.

Among the flowers, he says a quiet prayer to whatever entity might hear him.

If I can live… what can I do with this life?

I would like to share it. I would like to not live as selfishly as I have. But…

His heart clenches. It is too late for Eren and he, right? What would Eren think if Levi were to come back and say, I changed my mind. He would think that his devotion was fickle.

Levi had never been devoted to anything, had never been fixed by any idea or place or person for long; had never been faithful to anything. Always there had been a restlessness in his soul, preventing him from putting down roots. It seemed, no matter where he went, there was no soil in which he could thrive, nowhere that felt like home. So he would keep moving.

And yet, with Eren, he has felt at ease. Not restless. With Eren, has he felt at home?

The flowers nod in the soft breeze.

_Oh, Levi. You poor bastard._

He falls back against the grass, staring up into cloudy grey. In this position, he must breathe shallowly, if not, his lungs will insist on reminding him that all is not well, not just yet. Although his heart is giddy, it is tender, like a bruise, he imagines, or it is swollen with too much blood, each beat an ache.

When I am healthy, I’ll go to him. When I am certain that I’ll live, I’ll find him and ask if he remembers the time we spent together in the mountains, if he still harbours any tenderness for me after everything. And Eren will turn his eyes to me, green as the sea I once saw from haggard cliffs by the shore, and say––

But Levi cannot envision what Eren would say, and so the image dissolves.

The humility and gratitude Eren had expressed towards him when presenting the flowers had been unbearable––as if Eren owed him anything. He had said that they were even, but no… Thanks to Eren, he can live. Levi could never make it up to him, not in this lifetime, or the next. It was Levi who owed him––owed him his life, and more.

And Levi would gladly give it to him, if Eren would have it.

_____

When he returns to camp he finds Eren seated on a tree trunk, staring into nothingness. His hands are clasped before him, one leg bouncing nervously. He doesn’t notice Levi when he appears.

“Everything all right there, Eren?”

Eren snaps to attention.

“Levi! Ah… yes.”

Eren takes to biting a nail, leg bouncing again, his attention already drifting.

Slowly, Levi approaches him, steps hesitant. He takes a seat beside him and places a hand on his knee.

Immediately its movement ceases. Levi waits, struggles to decide if he should remove his hand, if this is appropriate or not, but Eren is quiet, not looking at him. He has caught his lower lip under his teeth. Tension is emanating from his body.

Levi removes his hand and Eren remains still.

They are both incapable of sharing, at talking about that which worries them. They carry heavy secrets, secrets that they have built themselves prisons out of.

They do not share their worries for fear that it may hurt the other; instead they choose to hurt in silence, privately in their cells.

Levi knows that if he were to ask, Eren would not tell him.

And then, Eren reaches out, takes Levi’s hand and squeezes it gently. He isn’t looking at Levi, eyes still fixed on something distant. Levi wishes that he could see what Eren is seeing––instead he squeezes his hand back. It is a futile attempt at making a connection, but he treasures it nevertheless.

______

That night, sleep does not come easy, even now when Eren is lying next to Levi once again, breathing evenly.

Levi’s mind is a cacophony and his heart responds in kind. He doesn’t know what has triggered it, but the muscle beats as if he has run for miles in a panic. Chest burning, breath laboured, sweat pouring; he grows scared.

In a convulsion he throws the blankets off and stumbles out into the night, where he gulps down big lungfuls of air, each breath paid for by a twinge in his chest. Eventually his heart calms, the fierce burning is reduced to a searing pain, and his breath evens out; he can smell jasmine on the breeze and is soothed.

The stream is already whispering to him when he arrives, has been whispering to him forever, perhaps. He sits down on the grass and listens carefully, trying to glean something from it, an ancient wisdom of some sort, though his ears are not attuned to such a language.

“I am so close,” he whispers to it. “Please. Let me see what lies ahead. Keep us both safe.”

A good sign above––the sky has cleared, revealing a void scattered with stars. His gaze falls upon the hills; close now. Hills that they will climb come morning. The beginning of the end of their journey.

The dragonshead is sleeping; it has closed in on itself. Sitting in the soft grass, Levi grows weary, too. He falls asleep there, the stream lulling him into a light slumber.

Later, when he wakes, it is still dark. He’s not sure, however, why he is awake.

He sits up, peering into the darkness. For a long time, he listens.

Nothing. Nothing but the stream and the breeze, the occasional call of a night bird, and nothing more.

A breeze takes hold of him and he shivers. He should get back to the tent before Eren can discover his absence, he wouldn’t want him to worry.

Levi picks his way back through the forest slowly. It is much harder finding his way back to their tent than it was finding the stream. It’s a long walk, longer than he remembers it being in the daytime.

Somehow, something seems off. What is it? Something on the wind? Or is it merely his imagination? He stops dead in his tracks, holding his breath while an uneasiness slowly creeps over him. He cannot hear or see anything, but the time when he trusted his senses implicitly has long since passed.

_You paranoid old fool._

Relief washes over him, however, when he spots the tent through the trees. He’s ready to crawl back inside, to steal some of Eren’s warmth and get some much needed rest.

Then there’s a sound, and an eerily familiar sensation. It displaces him in time, making him feel small and scared: the feeling of a cold, unforgiving blade pressing against his throat.

“Out for a late night stroll?”

It isn’t Eren’s voice.

There is someone behind him; the heavy stench of sweat and onions invade his nostrils, making him want to retch.

For a moment Levi is paralysed, his mind numb.

Eren, he thinks. Where is Eren?

He makes a quick movement but the blade at his throat bites into him with a thirst, drawing warm blood.

“Don’t make any sudden movements or you might come to regret it.” It’s a hiss in his ear, and then a bellow: “Oi! I found the other one!”

Levi’s stomach drops.

There’s movement behind the trees and someone barks out a reply as more figures appear from the dark.

Levi is pushed forward, knife still at his throat and both arms wrung onto his back in a punishing hold.

A spark, and then another; the cloth of a torch catches fire and illuminates the scene.

The torch is held by a man kneeling on the ground. He rises, growing like a beast before Levi. What strikes him first is the man’s nose; flat, crushed by a blow of some kind; and then the black toothy grin that widens his mouth into a grimace.

He approaches, torch aloft so that he can study Levi in turn. It is a quick appraisal through which the sneer remains intact.

Levi rummages through his mind for something to say, but comes up empty in his numbed state. Instead he opts for scowling at the man, feeling the trickle of blood as it runs down his neck and into his shirt.

The man backs off, scoffing.

“You’ve got a nasty look about you.”

A vicious punch is delivered to his stomach and he would have doubled over in agony had it not been for the one holding him up and the sinister knife at his throat. For a second his vision fades, and he thinks, god, no, don’t faint, but his sight returns as a fist tangles in his hair, tugging his head up. He finds himself looking into the flatnosed man’s face, who’s even uglier up close.

“I hope you’re not planning on making any trouble for us. If so, we’ll just slit your throat here and now. How’s that sound?”         

Another tug to his hair.

Levi grits his teeth, swallowing his pride.

“Please… don’t…” he wheezes, struggling to breathe.

“Good lad,” the man laughs, leaving a stinging slap on his face.

It’s when he turns that Levi sees the limp figure lying on the ground next to the tent: Eren, unconscious, with blood smeared over the side of his face.

The agony in his stomach turns cold and a tremor runs through him. As he stares at Eren’s sorry state, the blood on his face, his lifelessness, his heart rate increases rapidly without any permission.

_Calm down. You need to calm down. Or it’ll be the death of you both._

“What… did you do… to him?” he croaks out.

He wants his voice to be steady, but it is not; he can hear one of the men snigger.

“Made sure he wouldn’t be a nuisance,” says Flatnose and begins barking out orders to the rest of the outlaws––five in total––at which they start gathering their stuff, none too gently, disassembling their tent, grabbing their backpacks, Levi’s medicine case…

He can only watch as it is all taken from him, can do nothing as a hulking mass of a man grabs Eren and tosses him over a shoulder, as if he were a slab of meat; blood curdling as the animal puts his filthy hands on him.

His own hands are secured with rope, the rough hemp digging into his skin. Another shove and the procession starts moving through the forest, Flatnose leading the way.

Stupid, stupid, stupid––how could he have been so stupid? How long had the outlaws been tracking them? Or had it been pure chance that saw their paths converging?

_No matter now, no matter now, too late now…_

Is this it, then? Is this how it ends?

And he had thought… had thought that maybe they would make it.

They walk and walk and walk. His entire body is weak, particularly his legs, and he falters many a time, only to be pushed forward immediately, forced to keep up the pace as the ache in his body grows until it nearly unbearable.

The night yields slowly as they progress, the only clear indicator of time. Looking up through the branches, Levi sees how the stars have paled with the sky growing lighter; morning is approaching.

At last they reach their destination; a stone formation, clearly man made, centuries old by the look of it. Had Levi encountered it in any other situation, he would have been in awe at such a thing. Now his mind is solely occupied with fear.

In the centre of the stone circle is what seems to be a camp. A thin column of smoke is rising idly from the burnt out fire, around which several figures sit hunched over against the rocks, or lie resting on the ground.

Levi’s spirits sink even further when he discovers that their number is greater than he had initially imagined. And the way that they have made themselves at home in this place makes him uneasy; personally he would treat a formation like this with some degree of respect. Never in his right mind would he get too close.

Abruptly, he halts by the outskirts of the circle, hairs standing on end.

The man following behind, however, curses at him and gives him a rough push, sending him stumbling into the ancient stone circle, where he finds himself in the company of a score of outlaws.

It is hard not to see the irony in it, that they would see their end in a place like this, likely an old burial place. If Levi hadn’t been scared out of his wits, he might have laughed at the absurdity of it all, at the, frankly, theatrical nature of his life.

Eren is dropped unceremoniously by the fire, Levi is pushed down next to him; he has no more time to ponder on the tragicomedy that is his life.

“Eren!” he hisses, “Eren, wake up!”

But Eren is still unconscious, looking miserable in the pale morning light, with dried blood on his face, seemingly from a cut by his eyebrow. Levi is not worried about the cut, he knows he doesn’t have to be, but the unconsciousness is worrying. He doesn’t know to what extent Eren’s body handles injury. Cuts and bruises will heal quickly but what about internal injuries? Head trauma?

“Eren, please––”

“Shut up,” someone spits and Levi receives a knock to the back of his head, hard enough to make tears well up in his eyes.

He bows his head and seals his mouth shut, still staring at Eren’s lifeless form. He wishes that his hands were free so that he could check up on Eren, make sure that his pulse is beating regularly, to check if he is injured elsewhere.

“Now, what do we have here?”

Levi’s gaze is drawn to the voice.

A tall thin man, surprisingly plain looking, stands on the other side of the fire pit. The way that the man carries himself, as well as the attention he gains from the other men, implies that he is a man of some authority.

The sky pales further. And when the man draws nearer, Levi can make out a pair of cold blue eyes in a face that appears uncannily smooth and open, long hair pulled back and fastened at his neck. Compared to the other men, he seems relatively innocuous, but something about his mouth and his unrelenting stare suggest malignity.

“Seems like we’ve caught ourselves a pedlar or medicine seller of some sort,” comes the grumbling voice of Flatnose and he delivers a kick to Levi’s case, as if by way of explanation.

“Hey! Be careful with that,” Levi snaps, unable to stay quiet; he is trembling with repressed emotion by now.

Cold eyes flit back to him, rests there.

“Let’s be careful, Henk. Could be he carries some valuable stuff in there,” the man says, eyes not leaving Levi, who gives him his best glare in return.

“A pedlar, eh?”

“Yes.”

“You come this way often?”

“Yes.”

The man looks to Eren.

“And him?”

“He’s my assistant,” Levi doesn’t hesitate.

“Assistant, huh.”

He comes closer, crouching down next to Eren, reaching out with a hand to touch his face. He brushes away a lock of hair from his forehead, gently, like one would touch a lover, but there is no affection on the man’s face.

A twitch of a smile on his mouth.

“Pretty thing, isn’t he? Is that why you brought him with you, to keep you warm through lonely nights?”

A nasty grin spreads on his face as he turns back to Levi; he can hear the other men snicker and the bile rises in his throat.

“Don’t touch him.”

The man laughs, a loud unsettling cackle.

“We’ll see what I’m in the mood for,” he lilts, rising to his feet.

He makes his way over to a rock and leans against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So…” he cocks his head. “What’s your name, fellow traveller?”

“…Levi.”

“No family name?”

“You’d need a family for that.”

The man chuckles.

“True. Pleasure to meet you, Levi. I’m Liam.”

Levi doesn’t respond.

“Not very talkative are you, Levi?”

“I was told to shut up,” he shrugs.

“How rude of my men––they can be a little uncouth. You have my apologies.”

Levi’s patience is wearing thin; he has no wish to participate in whatever charade this man has got going on. If he is to be murdered, he would rather have it over with.

“What do you want from us? I expect it must be something, otherwise we wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Liam grins.

“Clever lad. Well, you see, my friends and I have heard a little whisper on the wind, and I thought that you might be able to help us.”

“There has been talk of some fugitive, a young man from Neverwinter who resisted arrest, and is now currently on the run from the authorities. A young man by the name of Eren Jaeger.”

Liam looks at Eren on the ground and then at Levi.

Mind reeling, Levi tries to keep a straight face. How can this man possibly know? Is he bluffing?

“Supposedly he is a very dangerous individual, though he doesn’t look very threatening right now, does he?”

Levi presses his lips together, attempting to ignore the frantic beating of his heart. He cannot reply.

“Anyhow, there is quite the pretty sum promised for his head, and so we would like to escort him back to Neverwinter in order to collect that sum.”

“You’re mistaken. This is not the man you’re looking for.”

He’s surprised by the levelness of his voice.

Liam lets out a chuckle and shakes his head.

“Please, spare me. He fits the description perfectly, and apparently he shares the name of the one we’re looking for. Hardly a coincidence.” His tone is neutral but the stare that he fixes on Levi is not. “You seem like a smart man, Levi. I’m sure I don’t have to spell out for you the predicament you and your… assistant are in.”

Cold sweat has broken out on Levi’s forehead, he feels it too on his neck, along with the dried blood from before; it itches.

_I can’t fool this man..._

Liam continues, “What baffles me, however, is why you are headed towards Neverwinter. Seems to me he should be going in the opposite direction. Unless you’re thinking of collecting the bounty for yourself, of course.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“So, you care for him.”

More an observation than a question, which is how Levi chooses to interpret it, remaining silent. Liam gives him a knowing smile. Infuriated, Levi’s hands are itching, itching to be free, itching for his knife.

Liam moves on.

“I take it that you are familiar in these parts, correct?”

Levi gives a wary nod.

“Perfect! I’ve got an offer for you. We’re in a bit of a hurry, and would like to reach Neverwinter as soon as possible. Our current route is less than ideal, but perhaps you know a swifter way? If you’re willing to guide us, we’ll spare your life.”

Levi knows that he cannot trust this man. However, if he agrees, at least he will live until the gates of Neverwinter come into view. That would certainly be preferable to being murdered in the middle of an ominous stone circle, leaving Eren to fend for himself among a band of foul outlaws. If he could buy some more time, then perhaps he could figure something out, somehow allowing them to escape. Gods know what that would be…

“And what about my assistant?”

“Why, he’ll be put into the hands of the Crown’s Guard, of course. Such a dangerous individual shouldn’t be roaming about, don’t you agree? We’re merely doing our duty as honest countrymen.”

The group immediately breaks out into guffaws of laughter, and Liam can’t keep the grin off his face. Levi feels sick to the stomach.

“What do you say?”

There is only one choice to make.

“Fine.”

“Splendid! Get some rest and we’ll be on our way in a few hours.”

The men shuffle about, settling down against the stones or stretching themselves out on the ground for a short rest.

Levi and Eren are left in the same spot. It doesn’t seem like anyone is particularly worried about the two of them making their escape, as no one is put to keep watch over them; and fair enough, Levi himself struggles to see how they could possibly get out of this one.

Levi lies down on the hard ground, heart beating frantically, painfully, his head filled with so much noise as he tries to come up with something, anything, that may save their lives. But it is futile; his mind is too panicked, it locks itself down.

The sight of Eren before him, limp and bloodied, does not help his mounting desperation. He loses track of time; the blood on Eren’s temple, he has memorised its shape.

At some point he hears a rustling from behind. He turns, not without effort, to see one of the outlaws going through Eren’s backpack. The other men are fast asleep it seems, unaware of their comrade’s investigations; the man’s back is to Levi, oblivious that he is being watched.

Heart leaping with hope, Levi sees a sheath on the man’s waist, the handle of a knife poking out; seemingly beckoning to him. The man is not far, three feet or so.

_If I move quickly… take the knife, cut his throat, make sure he cannot make a sound, you know how to do that, free yourself, wake Eren, escape…_

He is barely able to string the thoughts together in a coherent sequence so that he can act upon them; they flit through his mind at a rapid speed, and he is already rising from the ground, stealthy as can be. His legs are shaking with the effort, and when he finally stands he is struck by a bout of dizziness. However, he keeps his footing and proceeds to advance on the, as of yet, unsuspecting man.

When you grow up on the streets, you acquire a certain type of skillset in order to survive. You learn to be stealthy, you learn to be quick, you learn to be dexterous, you learn how to defend yourself, and most importantly, you learn to never leave your back open.

The handle of the knife is smooth as Levi pulls it from the sheath, the man’s breath is warm and moist against the palm of his hand as he clamps it tightly over his mouth, the sensation of a sharp blade slicing through flesh is unsettling because of how easy it is to do, he is always surprised at how smoothly it cuts.

Although quick, it is not quick enough, not as smooth as he would have liked. Before Levi can open the man’s throat, he thrashes, and lets out a muffled shout that is cut short by the knife, and Levi’s hand is warmed by a cascade of blood.

Upon turning, Levi sees several things. The cry of the outlaw has alerted his comrades, who are quick to react, many of them already on their feet, advancing on Levi; he sees the glint of light hitting drawn blades, as the sun is just starting to peek over the hills, making the steel look as if on fire; and then he sees Eren. Awake. Sitting upright, eyes wide and vacant, staring at him.

Someone crashes into Levi and he is knocked to the ground; his head hits something hard and his vision goes dark for a moment. When it returns, he sees something impossible.

Eren, gripping the hilt of a sword that is buried in the stomach of the flatnosed man.

Levi watches as Eren yanks the sword out, Flatnose sinking to the ground in a heap, clutching his stomach, but Levi pays the man no attention. It is only Eren that he sees, nearly unrecognisable; his face contorted in a vicious grimace, eyes frighteningly empty, clutching a sword that is dripping with blood as he stands now bathed in the brilliant glow of the morning sun, as if it is greeting him specifically.

Levi, delirious as he beholds Eren in his terrifying beauty, is struck by the wild notion that he is looking upon the deity he should have been praying to all this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all the things happen in this chapter
> 
> the latin name of the dragonshead is dracocephalum ruyschiana, if anyone should be interested––it's a real flower! also endangered where i am from. its colour varies, blues and lilac hues. 
> 
> hope you enjoy!
> 
> (you can follow me on my tumblr central-and-remote)


	8. Chapter 8

Eren turns and swings the weapon in an arc, slicing it through another man, who goes down as easily as the first. Eren moves with swiftness and precision, the blade comes with incredible strength behind it, strength Levi has seen Eren display before but never like this, he had never thought Eren could be like this.

It is not only the strength and the violence that makes Eren alien; it is the vacancy in his eyes, like it is not truly Eren standing before him, like he is possessed by mindless bloodlust.

With immense effort, head still spinning from the impact, Levi pushes himself up off the ground, crying out a warning as he sees a man rushing at Eren from behind.

Eren doesn’t react in time and the man throws himself at him, nearly knocking him over. It doesn’t matter, though, because Eren simply shrugs him off like he weighs nothing, turns around, and Levi catches the expression of fear on the outlaw before Eren brings the sword up and across his chest.

Not even a minute has passed and Eren has already felled five men; they lie scattered around him, adorned in streaks of red and gold; an uncanny meld of blood and sunlight.

Still in awe, Levi attempts to gather his wits––it is time to act, and quickly.

A man barrels past him, weapon held aloft as he roars, headed for Eren.

Knife in hand, Levi reaches out and plants it with all his might into the man’s calf, sending him to the ground in a pained howl. Levi cuts his laments short and the man goes still beneath him.

Nausea announces itself; the smell of blood pervades the air. It is the second life he has taken today.

Lifting his eyes from the body, he sees Liam a little ways off; frozen in place, watching in awe, much like Levi himself, as Eren carves into yet another of his men. Disbelief is written all over his face.

He catches Levi’s gaze and from his expression it seems like he has received an epiphany. Skirting around the spectacle that is Eren, he starts moving towards Levi with determination.

Levi is quick to his feet. A survey of his surroundings tells him that they are still outnumbered, even though Eren has taken out quite a few men already. Many seem hesitant to engage Eren in battle, now having witnessed the ease with which he has dispatched several of their fellow comrades.

Nevertheless, it is unlikely that the two of them can take them all out, as there must be a dozen or so remaining.

“Eren!” Levi shouts through the commotion. “We have to go!”

It is futile; Eren does not register his words. There is blood splattered across his face, his mouth is twisted in a snarl, and that horrible vacancy of his eyes makes Levi wonder if Eren is even present, if he is capable of reason.

Fear chills him, and for a brief moment Levi feels utterly helpless. This Eren, covered in blood, he does not know him.

And then he recognises the mistake he has made––Liam is nowhere in sight.

It is too late when he feels the sword at his throat.

“Make him stop,” Liam snarls, clearly having lost his collected composure from before.

Levi, teetering at the very end of his wits, breaks out into laughter, which grows louder even as the pressure of the blade increases.

“You think I can stop him? No…”

He looks out on the men lying dead or dying on the ground at Eren’s feet; Eren, panting heavily, crouched like an animal ready to attack, two men flanking him; the whole scene framed by the ancient stone circle.

“You’ve chosen your grave, now lie in it.”

He senses Liam’s body at his back, tense with indecision, shaking with fear or rage, he does not know which, and it is all the time Levi needs to jab the knife into his side.

Liam yelps in pain and immediately releases his grip on Levi, who takes the opportunity to stumble away.

“Eren!”

Yet again he attempts to communicate with Eren, but there is no response.

Levi looks around, searching, spots the medicine case, knocked over next to a dead man––without it he will be a dead man too.

Adrenaline has kept him going so far, but he can feel how it is taking its toll on his body, a blossoming pain in his chest, each breath a struggle to pull. He won’t be able to keep this up for much longer.

Many of the drawers have been knocked out of the case, containers and phials have shattered, spilling their contents on the ground. He spots the dragonshead, still intact, untouched in the fray. His trusted grimoire, too, lies close by; he gets down on his knees to retrieve the items.

“Levi!”

He looks up, only to see Liam, sword extended, coming down to deliver him. Liam’s face is split in a sadistic grin, cold eyes fixed on nothing but death.

Miraculously the blade stops, deflected by another. Eren steps into view, shielding Levi from the menace. Liam staggers back, now finding himself face to face with Eren.

In a moment of lucidity, Levi grabs the container with the dragonshead and the grimoire, stuffing them in his pockets. The glint of a short sword catches his eye and he grabs that too.

He rises, standing back to back with Eren.

“Eren… are you there?”

“Yeah…”

It is breathless, mostly an exhalation, but it is a reply, communication, and Levi is relieved.

“We need to run…”

There is no answer from Eren, only a lack of warmth as he moves away.

Turning, Levi sees him advancing on Liam, who is leaning on a stone clutching his side where Levi pierced him before. The sword is loose in his hand and he is not quick enough to bring it up in defence.

Eren points his sword at Liam’s throat, coated with the blood of half of his men. Liam’s gaze follows the blade of the sword, until it reaches Eren, who stands taller than him now.

“Let us go and I will spare your life.”

The shock on Liam’s face disappears and is replaced by a leering smile.

“Who would have thought, pretty boy can fight.”

The smile is wiped off, however, as Eren pushes the sword hard into Liam’s throat.

“Don’t test my patience.”

Eren’s voice is cool and level, and Levi doesn’t know, doesn’t know what will happen next.

Surrounding them are the remaining men, some standing, some hunched over, clasping hands to bleeding wounds, sweat pouring and breath laboured, and Levi sees the doubt on their faces, the fear in some.

No one rushes to Liam’s aid. No one moves. It is quiet.

Liam, too, looks out on his men and sees the same scene. He scoffs and spits on the ground, muttering something under his breath.

“Fine.”

Liam’s face has turned stony, eyes vindictive and glued to Eren’s, watching him minutely like a snake waiting for the slightest slip up, for the right moment to strike.

Eren presses on the sword again, Liam hisses in pain.

“And you won’t follow us?”

The grimace contorts into a slippery smile, and he says, “You have my word,” and Levi wants nothing more than to see that blade sink further into the man’s neck. 

Making sure that no one is about to throw themselves at him, Levi grabs the nearest backpack, still clenching the short sword in his hand, although the weight of it is beginning to affect him.

Gently, he puts a hand on Eren’s shoulder but Eren doesn’t look at him; he is locked in a stare with Liam.

“Eren,” he gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. “Come on. Let’s go.”

It is evident that Eren does not want to go, it is very evident what Eren would rather do; the blade at Liam’s throat remains, steady.

“Eren. Please.”

Finally Eren looks at him.

His face is paler than Levi has ever seen it, accentuating the hue of exhaustion beneath his eyes, making him look haggard. Thankfully, his eyes are no longer empty like they were not long ago, when it seemed he had been trapped in a blind, mindless fury.

A force of destruction, not the Eren he had come to know, the Eren who is a source of life.

Now Eren lowers the blade, steps away from Liam; Levi watches the man like a hawk but he makes no movement other than slumping against the stone in defeat.

Levi takes Eren’s arm and together they leave the stone circle.

It is a frantic, clumsy escape where they pull each other along, the one clinging to the other, Levi stumbling, Eren supporting him, strong-armed.

Levi is desperate: he needs to look at Eren, talk to Eren, he also needs to make sure that they are not being pursued, and that they are heading in the right direction, and he is attempting to do all of this simultaneously.

Every two feet he glances over his shoulder, but the outlaws remain among the stones, some glaring after them but it seems the majority is preoccupied with tending to their wounds. The circle disappears from sight as they make their escape into the forest.

They hurry through the trees fast as they can; Levi knows they need to put as much distance between them and the outlaws as possible––Liam’s word means absolutely nothing. He fully expects them to come bursting out of the green at any second.

“Eren… are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Levi stumbles again, caught by Eren, who forces him to halt.

Eren moves in close, allowing Levi to study him, which he does, minutely, searching for any serious harm, but there are merely scrapes and bruises and blood, most of which does not belong to him.

Eren stares, too, putting a hand to the side of Levi’s face, tilting it a little.

“I’m fine. What about you? What did they do to you? What happened when I was out? Were you injured?”

There is fear and anger in his expression, and as he speaks his hands start to wander, down Levi’s neck, to his chest, eyes restless. Levi, too, clings to Eren, has to in order to stay on his feet.

“I’m all right. They just knocked me about a little.” He draws a deep breath, trying to calm down, his body shaking with exertion. He feels himself smiling. “God… I thought we were going to die there… An apt grave, though…”

Eren nods, swallows, avoids Levi’s eye.

“Fuck, we need to keep moving. I don’t trust that man,” Levi breathes.

Eren shakes his head.

“Me neither... are you sure you are okay?”

Eren still won’t meet his eye, he looks nervous.

“Yes, Eren.” Levi lets his hands slip from Eren’s shoulders to the sides of his neck, and now Eren’s gaze moves to his. “I… you keep saving me… I don’t know how I will,” he swallows past the lump that has formed in his throat, “how I’ll make it without you from now on.”

He intended it to sound light hearted, but it comes out heavier, more serious, and Levi regrets ever opening his mouth.

There is surprise on Eren’s face; a faint blush begins to spread across his cheeks.

“That’s… you were fine before you met me,” voice subdued.

_Fine. Yes. But nothing more._

Eren pulls away, and Levi sees the dejection that has descended upon him, shoulders that were proud before are now hunched as if in shame, and a deep frown has cut itself into his brow.

“Eren––”

“I’m sorry. I never wanted you to see me like that. I––” he stops, turns halfway from Levi, eyes glued to the ground. “I owe you an explanation. I’ll tell you everything.”

Levi watches him, feeling Eren’s distress like it was his own. Hesitating only for a second, he draws close, puts a gentle hand on Eren’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

A sudden jolt in his chest and an all too familiar smouldering pain catches fire.

Eren meets his gaze, a look of determination.

“No, I’ll tell you. I promise.”

Levi draws a shaky breath.

“Okay… but right now we need to keep moving… and we should be quick, otherwise you may have to carry me.” He gives Eren what he hopes is a smile, but it’s a grimace at best. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep on my feet.”

Immediately Eren offers his arm to Levi, and he accepts it gratefully as they continue on their trek.

When they come upon a stream, Levi insists that they take off their shoes and follow it upstream as far as they can, so as to make it harder for the outlaws to track them. He doesn’t know if Liam intends to follow them, but Levi doesn’t want to take any chances. Although the water is cold it is not worse than the throbbing in Levi’s chest, indeed, it distracts him from the searing heat, and so he is able to endure it. Eren seems unbothered by the temperature. Levi slips a number of times and would have fallen if not for Eren’s strong hold. Time and again, Eren pulls him up, steady at his side

Levi tries not to lean too heavily on Eren, but the fatigue from the fight combined with a lack of rest is starting to overtake him. All he wants to do is lie down in the grass beside the stream, lie down there with Eren; he wants to gaze upon him for a long time until his heart is calm and his breath regained… But there is no time for that. Instead Levi looks on in dead silence as Eren washes the blood from his face, his hands, his arms, and it looks like he is fighting the urge to be sick.

They push on, Levi entering what is akin to a trance. He fights it, managing to stay somewhat alert so that he can guide them in the right direction; they need to stop frequently in order to be assured that they are, indeed, headed north. However, it gets easier once the trees part and they reach the bottom of the hills. Now the only way is up.

While they walk, Levi cannot stop thinking about Eren. In his mind’s eye he stands in golden sunlight, blood dripping from his sword, a mask of fury on his face, eyes hollow. The image is burnt into his mind.

Other images of Eren come to him; Eren lying in the grass surrounded by wildflowers, resting, peaceful and quiet; Eren smiling at him, midday sun at his back, fluffy seeds like snow in his hair; Eren like a saint, offering him the dragonshead with a laugh like music…

Compare that to the raging Eren not long ago… how could it be the same person?

Of course, Levi had caught glimpses of Eren’s immense strength before. Back in Raven’s Roost, when he threw himself at the thief who had lifted some of Levi’s wares; the thief was overpowered in an instant, only one strike was needed and the man was out cold. Eren had waded a treacherous river swollen with rain and meltwater like it was nothing, and had proceeded to carry Levi out of the same river… And then… the way his wounds heal so quickly––it is beyond natural. Surely, it is all connected.

Now, Eren moves quietly by his side.

He looks troubled. He does not look at Levi. He does not speak.

But Eren had said that he would tell Levi everything and so Levi will be patient. He’ll wait until Eren is ready.

They take a short rest where the stream bends, and they eat some berries that Eren discovers nearby. It is only a brief respite, they do not dare linger, and they continue on, climbing the hills.

Afternoon comes, and they allow themselves another break. They are nearing the top now, beyond which lies the kingdom of Shiganshina and their destination, the city of Neverwinter. Levi would very much like to press on, even through the night so as to reach the city, but he knows very well that his body will not allow for that. So when night falls, they find a sheltered place, obscured from the west by a rockfall. Here they settle down, eating the last of their rations. A lantern is lit but that is all.

Levi feels less than reassured about their situation, still he knows that they both need to rest. Despite the outlaws on their trail, he is in desperate need of rest. Never before can he remember being so wrecked; he can barely lift his arms, and when he does, they tremble with the effort of it. Eren catches on, and puts up the tent, Levi drowsing by the side.

“Your medicine case,” Eren’s voice comes to him, a low murmur. “It was left behind…”

Opening his eyes, Levi sees Eren in the process of affixing the canvas of the tent. In the half-light he cannot make out any distinct features on Eren’s face; the shadows, however, exaggerate the severity of Eren’s brow as they collect there––he looks immensely mournful.

“Don’t worry about that…”

Eren stills.

“But it’s your livelihood… I’m sorry, Levi. It’s all my fault.”

Levi shrugs off the exhaustion, gets to his feet with a wince, the muscles in his legs cramping in protest.

“Unless you sent those outlaws after us it’s hardly your fault.”

“But I did, though. They were after me…”

Eren is staring at his hands.

“They were after anything they could get their hands on. It was pure chance that they came upon you and knew of your bounty.” Levi breathes, hates seeing Eren like this, standing so still in shadow, collecting sorrows. “If I had come up here alone those bandits would have found me just the same, and you know what? They wouldn’t have spared me. And there is no way I could have escaped on my own. Thanks to you, I’m alive.”

Slowly, Eren reanimates, continues to fasten the canvas, but he does so in silence, giving no indication that he has heard Levi, and it is frustrating. Again, Levi feels the intense need to be close to Eren, to touch him, to hold him, to tell him that everything will be all right.

A sigh.

“Let’s not dwell on hypotheticals, Eren. We’re alive now and that’s all that matters. Besides,” he moves closer, takes the dragonshead from his pocket. “I managed to salvage what most important to me––your gift.”

Eren lifts his head to look at him, and Levi finds himself wishing and fearing that Eren would gather what the dragonshead signifies, that Levi could communicate it with his eyes only, or perhaps that he could convey some other feeling, a confession of sorts, of things he cannot say out loud. Levi’s heart quickens––so close to Eren in the dark, so much of him unseen yet so unbearably close to the surface, he is liable to reveal himself.

Eren’s lips curve into a smile.

“You’re too kind to me, Levi.”

His voice is rueful, barely audible. Levi feels Eren’s hand brushing against his own, gingerly entwining their fingers, and then he leads him into the tent.

“Come. I’ll tell you everything.”

They settle in, the lantern between them providing a modest light to see each other by.

So strange, to see Eren like this, small in the cramped tent, small in the way his face is turned half-way from Levi, insecure and uncomfortable.

The Levi three weeks ago would have revelled in this, would have delighted in Eren’s distress, back when Eren was but a stranger to him, back when Levi did not care for anything other than his pretty face, truthfully hating that he was there, hating that he had imposed on him in such an untimely manner, possibly gaining front row seats to witness Levi’s pitiful death. Levi had resented him for that.

But then things changed, and as they travelled together, Levi changed. And while he had thirsted for Eren’s secrets since the beginning of their journey, he would not have them at the price of such discomfort.

“Eren,” he says, placing a hand on Eren’s knee. He tries to capture Eren’s gaze. “You’re not obliged to tell me anything. If it pains you… don’t.”

Eren meets his gaze, a strange quality to his eyes.

“No. I want to tell you.”

Taken aback, Levi only nods, and lets silence take over as he waits for Eren.

“Have you ever heard of shifters?”

“Well… yes.”

“What do you know about them?”

“Um, legend has it that they are terrible, bloodthirsty people with supernatural abilities who has it out for other human beings. I know Shiganshina has a history with these so-called shifters, but nowhere else on the continent. I always chalked it up to them being a superstitious bunch.”

“It’s not a legend. I am one.”

“You’re… a shifter?”

“Do you believe me?”

_A shifter? Eren?_

It’s the most ludicrous thing Levi has ever heard, but there is no sign of insincerity on Eren’s face, and what on earth would compel him to tell such an unbelievable lie in the first place? The alternative, however, is just as insane. A shifter? Levi is speechless.

“When I first met you in Raven’s Roost, I overheard you talking to the barkeep, saying that you didn’t believe in the existence of shifters, that it is only a myth. But it’s not… it’s very real––I am very real. And people in Shiganshina are scared of them––of people like me…”

Eren’s face hardens.

“What you said about the king using the shifters to control the people… that is true. It’s convenient to blame disasters on us. If the Crown does anything the populace doesn’t like, a witch-hunt for a supposed shifter is staged. The people they’ve caught and executed… I doubt they were really shifters. There aren’t many. Or at least that’s what I think––I have yet to meet anyone like myself. But then again, I have been forced to live in secret. As have others.”

“The thing is, not much is known about shifters. So, it is easy for the Crown to make up lies and continue their fear mongering. As a result, as every shifter is forced to live in secrecy, cut off from one another, I do not know much about what being a “shifter” entails––what is my history, where do I come from, what is the scope of my abilities, what is my purpose… As far as I know, there has been no other shifter in my family. And if so, it is too long ago for anyone to remember…”

“My father… ever since the day it became clear what I was, he has been researching tirelessly to understand more about my – my condition. He wanted to help me understand myself, to help me control my abilities. He accepted me despite what I am. I am forever grateful to him for that. I couldn’t have asked for a better father.”

“But one day, during his research, he asked a question of someone that he shouldn’t have. I don’t know who it was, but they must have pieced together why my father was so interested, because they alerted the authorities. My father knew he had made a mistake. He came home that evening––Mikasa and Armin were visiting, we were playing cards in the kitchen––and he told me that I had to flee, that I had to leave the city. Mikasa and Armin, who knew all about it, refused to let me leave alone, and so it was decided that they would come with me.”

“We had barely gotten out the door when the Crown’s guard showed up. My father opened the door, and I saw a guard run him through with a sword, before bursting inside to ransack the house, looking for me. They take no chances when it comes to shifters. They are ruthless.”

Tears have welled in Eren’s eyes. His gaze is fixed on the lantern, or rather the memory of his father, bleeding to death on their doorstep.

“Mikasa and Armin dragged me away from there. I – I barely kept it together. I… feel rotten. I just left him there… He did everything for me, gave up his life for me, and I abandoned him.”

Levi makes a sound of protest, wanting again to take his hand, but Eren pulls away, dismisses him with a gesture.

“Don’t…” he draws a deep shaky breath, closes his eyes briefly before he continues, steadier. “I know that his sacrifice would have been wasted had I gone back there and – and…. but I wanted to so badly, Levi. I wanted to kill them all.”

“I have never felt such a powerful emotion before. It was like something inside me compelled me to violence and defying that instinct… well, it was like being denied air when you are drowning. It hurt…”

“The only reason I did not run back in there was simply because my fear was stronger than whatever that compulsion was. I was shaken. Had it not been for Mikasa and Armin being by my side I have no idea what would have happened. I suspect I wouldn’t have gotten very far.”

“Somehow we made it out of the city before they could raise the alarm. However, they were hot on our trails. We managed to avoid them for days, but they eventually caught up. It was inevitable, we were travelling on foot, they were on horseback, and we were foolish and scared.”

“I don’t remember much of what happened. It was darkness and chaos and rain and mud and horses. We were exhausted and we didn’t see them coming.”

A chuckle void of humour.

“Despite my abilities I am easily knocked out. I woke up the next day. I was lost, carried far down river, all alone. It’s a miracle I didn’t drown. Or maybe I can’t die that way, I don’t know… Regardless, Mikasa and Armin were gone. Taken. And I knew that they would be taken back to Neverwinter to stand before the Crown. I don’t think that they were killed on the spot, as they can give the guard valuable information about me, or perhaps they are intended as bait.”

“I cannot now for sure how long I was unconscious for in that river. But when I woke up I wandered to the closest town––Raven’s Roost. I heard that a group of Crown’s guard from Shiganshina had been through the day before, and some talk of how the main road to Shiganshina was flooded due to the heavy rains. Apparently, the riders had been advised to take the road going around the Lady’s Lap instead. And I heard that they had prisoners.”

“I was at my wits end. I had nothing to go on besides rumours. And it seemed like there was nothing I could do. But then the next day I met you.” He sends Levi a smile. “You were like a godsend. And when I joined you, I started thinking that maybe I could save them after all.”

Eren pauses, casts his gaze down. Slowly, his smile fades.

“I don’t know what state Mikasa and Armin are in, or if they’re still alive, but I have to hope. I need to believe that I’ll get there first, so that I can intercept the guards. I have to stop them from bringing Mikasa and Armin before the Crown. They won’t be facing a fair trial there, if a trial at all… I just don’t want anyone else to die for my sake. I’m going to save them, one way or the other.”

Levi’s hand has found Eren’s; and this time Eren does not flinch away. Levi takes the opportunity to hold it tightly.

“I’ll help in whatever way I can.”

He says it with utmost sincerity, though he knows that realistically he won’t be of much help at all. Levi wouldn’t hold up in a fight––he had barely managed to maintain consciousness when fighting the outlaws. Even now, he holds a smouldering pain behind his ribs, which flares every time he draws breath. Soon, very soon, it will catch fire and when that time comes it will not be put out by simple means, it will burn like the inferno it is intended to be, and it will burn until all that is left of him is a husk.

Levi feels so old, so weak. And yet, he wants to help Eren to the best of his abilities. If that has come to mean sacrificing himself––well, then there was a purpose for his existence after all.

Eren does not reply immediately; he stares at their hands interlocked, while an unfamiliar anxiety grows in Levi’s stomach.

“Aren’t you curious about what happens when I shift?”

“Well… I don’t know… I guess I am.”

“It’s… it’s different every time. The intensity of it depends on my emotional state and the situation I’m in… It’s much like what I imagine possession to be like. It’s still me, I suppose, but it’s like my body, or some other part of me, is making decisions for me, acting on pure instinct. There’s this… heavy fog that settles in my head and my entire body grows stronger.”

“When I was younger I couldn’t control it at all, sometimes I would even lose my memory of the incident. It was so scary… If something upset me, I would shift and become violent. Naturally, the neighbourhood kids didn’t like me very much and stayed away from me. Honestly, it was lucky no one ever got seriously hurt or that I was reported…”

“My father also limited the amount of people around us. Mikasa and Armin knew, of course, and a trusted doctor friend of my father, but that was it. My father also kept me busy in the house, helping him make remedies, and assisting him whenever it was needed. I didn’t hate it, but I was often lonely. I dreamt of what it would be like to travel, to meet new people, to not worry about whatever it is that I am, always afraid of hurting people…”

The tears in Eren’s eyes gleam in the light of the lantern.

_Ah, I’d do anything to halt those tears._

But he doesn’t know how.

“Thank you, Levi, for listening.”

Eren looks at him. And Levi doesn’t know what to say, what to do; he doesn’t know how to react, how to best comfort Eren, how to best reassure him; he wants to help, but doubts that he will be of any help at all, angry with himself for being so useless. And this is… so much to take in all at once. A mere moment ago shifters had belonged to the mythical realm, and now there is one sitting right in front of him…

Eren lifts an eyebrow, lips quirking slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“No – I mean, yes. I – thank you… for telling me all of this. It’s… unbelievable, but I do believe you––I trust you. And… I’m sorry.”

Eren blinks and tears spill from his eyes; he wipes them away quickly and averts his gaze. He gives a short laugh.

“I–I wish it wasn’t true. I wish it was only a nightmare.” He clenches his eyes shut. “And that I could wake up soon.”

“Eren…”

That’s all Levi can say. He’s never been good with words, he’s never been good with people, and his lack of experience taunts him now. Tongue and head locked, heart open and bleeding––he doesn’t know how to convert that blood into anything soothing.

But the tears do not stop and the silence is cruel.

“It’s a curse,” Eren whispers. “It has never brought me happiness. And it has caused me, and those I care about, a lot of pain. It’s death… I carry it within me.”

To hear those words come from Eren’s mouth is shocking.

Curse? Death? That’s not right. That’s not right at all.

Levi moves to Eren’s side and puts his arms around him. Eren does not protest; he buries his face in Levi’s chest, circling his own arms around Levi’s middle as his shoulders start to shake with emotion. Levi feels his shirt grow wet with Eren’s tears.

“What are you saying,” Levi mutters into his hair. “You’re life, you’re life… you’ve brought me nothing but life…”

Levi holds Eren until the tears have subsided and he is no longer shaking. In the interim, Levi’s heart has broken a dozen times over.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” comes Eren’s voice, muffled by Levi’s shirt.

“Don’t be. Of course you couldn’t tell me.”

He strokes Eren’s back, feeling helpless, not knowing what else to do.

“I killed so many today…”

“I know…”

_I killed too…_

A wave of nausea as he remembers; the feeling of flesh giving way, the smell of blood…

Eren comes out of hiding. His face is red and streaked with tears, and his eyes are puffy.

“Aren’t you afraid of me?”

“No. Why would I be?”

Eren blinks, frustrated confusion on his face.

“I could kill you in a second.”

_I could die at any second._

“But you wouldn’t,” and Levi cannot help the stupid smile that spreads on his face with this realisation. “You’re always saving me––so why would you suddenly decide to kill me?”

To his great surprise, Levi watches as Eren’s eyes fill with tears again and he curses himself for opening his damned mouth.

“No––don’t cry––I’m sorry––”

He is cut off as Eren kisses him; it is a brief and salty kiss.

Eren pulls back and before Levi can say anything, Eren places a finger on Levi’s lips.

Red-faced and teary-eyed, Eren looks determined.

“Levi. I will ask you a question, and you may only answer yes or no––it’s very simple. You understand?”

Hesitantly, Levi nods, anxiety mounting in his stomach.

“Do you want me?”

It is so simple yet so disarming.

His resolve is failing. He cannot lie to Eren, and so there is only one answer to give.

Eren has moved in closer; Levi feels the pull.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Levi places his hand on the side of Eren’s cheek; he caresses a cheekbone with a thumb and feels the longing grow unbearable inside.

He gives in and lets the current guide him to Eren’s lips.

It’s a relief that they are both alive after what happened; it’s a relief that Levi can still hold Eren like this; it’s a relief that Eren still wants to held by him.

It is warm and comforting, slow and sweet. Levi has little strength left but Eren is attentive and thorough.

Feeling Eren’s naked skin against his is like a miracle. For them both, it is an experience to be savoured, because they both harbour the feeling that this may be the very last time they get to be together like this.

When it is over they lie looking at one another for a time. There is only one bedroll now, but they can both fit, though it is snug. The proximity doesn’t bother them, however; the proximity is wanted.

“What’s the plan tomorrow?” Levi wants to know.

Eren closes his eyes, snuggles in close and hides away in the crook of Levi’s neck.

“Let’s talk about that in the morning,” Eren whispers, his fingers caressing Levi’s naked back.

Dead tired, sated and comfortable, Levi isn’t about to object. He wraps his arms around Eren and falls asleep shortly after, soothed by his presence and his warmth. It is the best sleep he has had in years.

Which makes waking up so much worse.

Because Eren is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is so long ! but there was stuff to explain .. i hope it reads ok ..  
> leaving you on yet another cliffhanger –– sorry about that
> 
> lemme know if u like,, give me strength 
> 
> u can find me at my tumblr central-and-remote


	9. Chapter 9

Finally, it is the extreme heat that wakes Levi from his heavy sleep. And even then, he is slow to stir, as if his consciousness is unwilling to slip back into his body. Not so strange, perhaps, with a body so compromised, so sore and tender and bruised from the ordeals of the previous day. His body remembers first: the encounter with the outlaws, every blow he took, the strain on his heart and lungs, the following escape where everything ached, and later, the comfort of Eren’s body, of release and relief.

Then he remembers Eren’s voice, telling him an impossible story. About his childhood, about his abilities, about his friends, about what he intends to do in order to save them.

Still half-asleep, Levi searches for Eren, for his warmth, despite the stifling heat of the tent. Although his entire body feels battered, he is in a good mood; he is content and well rested.

There is a peculiar, tender feeling that seems to have loosened from around his heart, where it previously had been bound so tight. It is loose now. Heartloose, he reaches for Eren, but his hands come up empty.

Levi opens his eyes to find that he is all alone.

A sinking feeling in his stomach––which he dismisses promptly. This is not the first time he has woken to an empty tent, he reasons with himself.

Levi dresses, awkwardly, in order to avoid as much pain as possible, careful not to strain his already strained muscles. It goes well at first, though not smoothly. He pulls on his shirt and breeches with some effort, but when he reaches over to put on his boots there is a terrifying, scalding spike of agony, like an arrow, piercing through his heart.

A cold sweat breaks out on his skin as he awaits the next strike, and it comes as surely as the first, this time setting his chest ablaze. He wants to call out for Eren, but the air in his lungs is stolen. Instead he sinks down into agony and resigns himself to wait until it has passed. It lasts longer than usual and Levi slips in and out of consciousness for the duration.

When the attack eventually subsides, Levi is shaking all over, little strength left in his body. He doesn’t know how much time has passed.

He gulps down some water, crawls outside into the day, where he immediately is sick, before he, on hands and knees, continues over to the shade of an elder tree, collapsing onto the ground.

The boughs are heavy with purple-black berries, not yet ripe.

If he were to try one now, they would be sour and, what’s more, poisonous, though not potent enough to kill him.

If they had been ripe, they could have alleviated some of the pain. But Levi is untimely––vastly so.

A mournful untimeliness embedded into all aspects of his brief life. To be so untimely when one has so little time to begin with…

Still, though the berries are bitter, there is something comforting about the elder-shade. He stares up into the boughs of the tree, listens to the silence.

There is no sign of Eren.

He has gone on ahead, he knows it with certainty as he looks upon the elder tree. Eren never intended to accept Levi’s aid.

_I just don’t want anyone else to die for my sake…_

That fool…

There’s a good chance everything will go south in this rescue attempt, Eren must know that. He doesn’t want Levi caught up in it.

Despite the calm of the elder, Levi feels a quick anger ignite within.

_How could he take that choice from me! If I am to die, at least I want to choose how I go. And now, will I die here? Without purpose, alone…_

Levi is not one to cry, so it is a strange sensation to feel his eyes well with tears, blurring the green of the leaves and the black of the elderberries. The tears spill, warm on his cheek. And as they leave him, so does his anger, put out as quickly as it had ignited.

_Eren doesn’t know about my sickness, I never told him. He has no way of knowing how close I am to death’s door. Nor can he guess what my wishes are. It is not right to be angry with him._

But Eren is headed towards his own death. No matter how powerful, he alone cannot match the power of the Crown. Eren would lose.

_I can’t let that happen._

_I can’t just lie here and let that happen._

_But what good can I do, I am more than halfway to death myself…_

He closes his eyes, submitting for a while to the vast hopelessness that overtakes him.

_______

It is already past midday when Levi has collected enough strength to move. He takes only what he needs and leaves the rest. As he rummages through his pockets he finds a blue flower; dead, crushed. It is not the dragonshead––it is a bluebell.

Strange, how did it end up there? Touching it, his fingers are smeared purple.

Then he recalls: weeks ago, Eren had picked it for him, saying something like, _it isn’t what you are looking for but isn’t it beautiful?_ Eren had smiled, and Levi had scoffed and turned away, but he had slipped the flower into a pocket, forgotten, but found later––now.

A memory picked out of a pocket.

Levi’s hands tremble with it. Weakly, he puts the flower back and starts the short trek to the top of the hills.

It is a clear and beautiful day. When he reaches the top he sees the blue sky stretch on seemingly forever. Beneath it lie the grasslands, dotted with houses here and there, and lakes that glitter in the sun. There are few trees, as most of them have been cleared away by the farmhands.

And on that sprawl of land, massive and discordant, sits Neverwinter, the capital city of the kingdom of Shiganshina. It is shielded by walls perhaps a thousand years old, if Levi’s historical knowledge checks out. No one has ever dared to attack Neverwinter because of those walls, impossible in size.

Neverwinter is not a city known for hospitality. Its people are distrustful, carrying walls of their own inside. It seems peculiar to Levi, or ironic perhaps, that such an openhearted man as Eren grew up amongst such people.

Outsiders are treated coolly, which is why Levi’s visits to Neverwinter were always short, despite doing good business there. Because, for all their distrust, Levi has learned, the people are impressionable; fearful of many a thing, they find much solace in charms and runes and odd, exotic potions and the like––wares Levi is all too happy to provide.

Now, with the knowledge of Eren being a shifter, Levi understands the real risk Eren is taking by returning to Neverwinter. If he is caught, there will be absolutely no mercy for him there.

How far ahead is he? Has he reached the gates yet? How on earth is he planning to get in?

Descending the hill, Levi grows sick with worry; it sits heavy in his stomach, a terrible weight to carry along with the constant dull pain in his chest, which flares up regularly now, though not so intensely so as to incapacitate him like before. He moves as quickly as he dares to, taking care not to agitate his body and heeding the path, which turns rocky and steep some places; a false step here would make for an abrupt end to his journey.

Following Levi, close at his heels, are all his regrets. Their whispers reach him on the wind; they have him in a fit of shivers although he is overheated from exertion, they chase him down the hill, driving him into a sweat.

And there is something else following, too. A shadow that has stalked him for a long time across the mountains. It draws nearer now, it is so close. Soon it will be upon him, and it will touch him with cold, burning fingers.

But before that he will see Eren one last time.

When Levi reaches the bottom of the hill it is already late afternoon. It will take him at least two or more hours to reach the gates. He turns westward over the plains until he reaches the main road, making the going easier and quicker.

He passes a few people on the road, mostly farmhands living on the outside of Neverwinter. They pay him little to no mind, save for a few scowling glances sent his way. Levi catches something like pity in the face of an old, withered man, his beady eyes trained on him as he passes by. Can he see the shadow closing in on me?

Dusk is already falling when he reaches the gates. Before this he has washed up a little in a stream close to the road, attempting to make himself look more presentable; he knows from experience how difficult it can be to gain entrance into the city. Thankfully, he still has his papers on him––letters of recommendation, receipts, orders from Neverwinter customers––without them there would be no entrance. Which again begs the question of how Eren would get in…

Is he still on the outside somewhere, biding his time? No matter how hard Levi tries to imagine a way for Eren to slip past the guards, he finds none––by force or ruse, he doubts it can be done. Unless Eren has something up his sleeve, which he might well have.

A forlorn yearning: there are many things Levi has yet to learn about Eren. They had had too little time; afflicted with untimeliness…

He chases the sombre thoughts off; he will return to them later if he gets the chance to. Now the walls loom before him, making him feel small and inconsequential.

There is a cart by the gates, filled with crates, barrels, and sacks of varying sizes––a merchant or a farmer is off to the side being questioned by an unfriendly looking, though bored, guard; another is inspecting the goods on the cart.

Clouds have amassed above, and the light is quickly fading. The only sources of light are the torches set into sconces on each side of the gate, and the lantern carried by the guard looking through the cart.

As Levi approaches he catches the tail end of the conversation.

“And how long do you intend to stay?” comes the low, droning voice of the guard.

“Only until I have delivered all my wares, sir. Which shan’t take more than a day. I believe I will be on my way tomorrow evening, sir.”

“Very well. Haldor?” he looks to the guard on the cart who gives him a sign. He turns back to the merchant. “You may enter. Curfew starts soon, so be quick to your destination.”

“Yes, sir. Certainly, sir.”

The merchant jumps back on his cart and proceeds through the gates as they are opened for him.

Levi emerges from the shadows. He is immediately stopped.

“Halt! What business do you have in Neverwinter?”

The guard eyes him over with suspicion, his tone far sharper than it had been with the merchant before. And rightly so, Levi can’t imagine that he looks anything like a trustworthy character, ragged and weary and haunted as he is.

He approaches carefully, seeing the hand that the guard has placed on the hilt of his sword, and retrieves his papers from a pocket.

“Hail and well met. I come from Trost to acquire wares for my business. I intended to sell my own goods but a pack of bandits relieved me of that on the way here. I was lucky they didn’t relieve me of my life, too.”

His jest is not appreciated. The guard looks him over, eyes narrowing.

“Do you have gold to speak of? How shall you acquire these goods? Or do you want me to believe that these bandits left you both your life and spare change? If you come here to beg, then turn away. The king does not take kindly to beggars littering the streets.”

The guard is staring him down.

Levi is calm. He has dealt with this type of person before, and had anticipated this level of hospitality coming here, if not worse. He hands the papers over and explains, calmly yet coolly, how he is expecting payment up front from a handful of well-known retailers in the city, and that by their trust he may be trusted. There are also, among the papers, a few receipts bearing the names of individuals of high status, as well as a letter of recommendation from a noble lady, extolling the virtues of Levi’s craft, particularly one tincture that had lessened her gout considerably––though the tincture consisted of saltwater, a few drops of lemon, and fish oil.

All the papers save the one assuring payment upon arrival are valid––he had that one forged shortly after his last visit to Neverwinter, in order to assure swifter entry in the future, tired of the relentless scrutiny he always had to endure.

Now he is glad that he had it done, as it might be the documentation most likely to sway this particular guard. Still, the man pores over it for quite some time, while the shadows grow darker, the lanterns on the walls shine brighter, and it gets significantly colder there at the foot of the great, forbidding walls.

The appraisal of the papers is so thorough that Levi grows worried that the man will detect the forgery. Surely he has encountered false papers before and could recognise them easily, but Levi had spent a fair amount of coin and hired an expert in the field, and Levi is inclined to trust their expertise.

Disgruntled, the man gives Levi his papers back. With a final searching look he says,

“All right, then. Your papers are in order, if nothing else.”

He gestures to the guards by the gates who begin pushing the large doors open.

The sound of a horn blares through the night and a voice from above––on the wall––cries out:

“Riders approaching! Crown’s Guard returning!”

The men around Levi all jump to attention. He hears one of them say excitedly to another:

“It must be the party they sent out to hunt that damned shifter.” And though there is spite in his voice there is fear too.

His companion’s distress is more transparent and he does not attempt to lower his voice like the first one.

“What! We weren’t informed of their arrival! We’re not equipped to handle a shifter!”

The captain, the one who had gone through Levi’s papers, says nothing, but he looks grave.

In the distance they all hear the distinct sound of horses approaching at a gallop, quickly closing in; it has become too dark now to see anything outside the torchlight.

The captain’s gaze falls on Levi; the muscles of his face twitch as if he had forgotten him a moment, and is presently reminded of a nuisance.

“Get those gates open, will you!” he barks at the idle guards by the entrance. “Let this fool in and stand at the ready!”

At his command the men quickly reanimate, pushing at the doors.

“Be on your way, and be quick about it,” he threatens Levi, who doesn’t hesitate to obey.

The moment he is through the doors are closed once again and Levi takes a moment to breathe and collect himself.

The streets lie dark and empty before him. At first he is unsettled by the lack of people, but then he remembers that in Neverwinter there is a curfew. No roaming the streets after a certain hour, unless you have special permission to do so.

Riders approaching… possibly bringing the shifter. These are the men who set out for Eren but only succeeded in capturing his friends. They will be coming through that door very soon.

Levi stations himself by the corner of a house where he can see the doors perfectly, illuminated by two torches on each side.

What now? With an ailing heart in his throat, and lungs that singe his ribs with every breath, What can I do?

Movement in the dark.

From the top of the wall there is a descending staircase hugging the stone structure; the stairs lead down to the left side of the entrance. As the only light comes from the torches, Levi can barely make out the stairs, and the light is scant.

Yet, he detects movement on the staircase. A figure is descending slowly.

Seeing it, Levi presses himself against the building, trying to stay out of sight, though still wanting to keep an eye on the figure.

Now he can hear loud voices on the other side of the walls, and the stamping and whinnying of horses. The riders have arrived.

A creaking of wood, and the doors are parting once more. The figure on the stair is still.

The first horse comes trotting through the gates, followed by another, and another, and yet another. They are eight men in total.

And among them, what appears to be two captives. From what Levi can see in the limited light and from his vantage point, a boy and a girl, each sharing a horse with a soldier. Their heads are bent and their hands are bound.

Swift––so swift that Levi does not register it before it is planted in the throat of the first rider––an arrow.

It is bizarre to witness, for there is a moment where the arrow goes unnoticed; the man’s horse is still moving forward, the guards following behind, oblivious.

Levi, however, sees it, sees the man lift his arms in a spasm to his throat, unable to make a sound, before he falls sideways off his horse, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Before the guards can react, there is another arrow loosened, and another, hitting one soldier in the neck, the other in between the shoulder blades.

The figure on the stairs moves; quick like the arrows they have loosened. They jump, landing gracefully in the dirt, and in the torchlight Levi catches the gleam of a sword drawn.

Though the figure is hooded, Levi is no fool––he knows who it is, recognises those graceful yet terrifying movements, their deadly intent. So Levi moves too, pushes off of the building, dagger in hand, drawn to Eren’s side––to protect him, to lay down his meagre life for him.

The guards are shouting now, realising that they are under attack.

Eren is by the horses. A blood curdling whinny, and a horse collapses, taking its rider with it.

Levi is approaching the fray as quickly as he can, all the while keeping his eyes glued to Eren, but he still manages to lose sight of him in the cacophony of horses and men and shadows.

He notes that the guards riding with the captives have been incapacitated, and he catches a glimpse of Eren helping the girl down and cutting her bonds.

A loud clang as one of the riders brings his sword down to cleave Eren in two, but Eren deflects it just in time, with enough power to send the weapon flying out of the man’s grasp and to the ground, where the girl is quick to pick it up.

The fighting has drawn the attention of the gatekeepers by now and they come running through the doors with their weapons drawn. Levi knows they need to finish this quickly or else they will be swarmed by the entire city guard in not too long.

“Get Armin!”

Though Levi has lost sight of him again, Eren’s voice rings clear through the chaos.

Dagger in hand, Levi enters the fray, seemingly unnoticed by anyone.

He cannot think––his mind is frozen in chaos––yet his body moves. When he falls in the dirt, he registers no pain, not even when there is a hefty blow to his head, which leaves his mind swimming, nearly dipping under.

He staggers to his feet, narrowly escapes being trampled by a horse, and finds himself faced with a man––the guard, the one who had interrogated him by the gates. There is a look of recognition on the man’s face, perhaps surprise, but it quickly turns into one of contempt.

The guard charges him, and Levi is on the ground yet again, breath stolen.

“Filth!” the man spits into his face, straddling his chest. He lowers his blade to run Levi through.

It is remarkably hard to do, but takes very little effort; the man is only wearing leather armour, and Levi’s dagger is keen; it finds its way through a joint in the leather and comes to rest there, sheathed in the man’s stomach.

Levi is able to knock him off, pulling his knife free. The guard lies on the ground next to him––not dead, but dying.

Frozen, Levi cannot look away from the man, his form on the ground––it is familiar, uncannily so. He sees himself, lying there, in the man’s place, curled into himself in an attempt to protect his body, to stave off pain, but the pain is at home in him, no escape from it––the pain is _me,_ it is _mine._

Something steals over him then, a shadow––his own shadow. It catches up and finally takes hold of him with cold, burning hands.

He cannot move, cannot see, can only feel, and he wishes he could not feel any longer.

Levi hears the stampede of horses, the tell-tale sounds of fighting, of people shouting––and a familiar voice among them, but he cannot make out the words.

He hears all of this, but does not understand.

_Who am why are I where is––_

That voice again and then––quiet.

In the quiet, there is only a tight, searing grip on his heart and his lungs; everything burns down to that––the pain is _me_. that is all i am. and soon no longer.

He would have cried out if he could, but the quiet prohibits sound; it is total, as the darkness is total.

Or––?

“Levi?”

_Levi… that’s… me?_

“Levi!”

He knows this voice, it is so familiar; it is sunlight and forest and green and warmth and life––it fills the dark quiet.

“Oh, god, help me––Mikasa, Armin––quick!”

He feels hands touching him, pulling him, carrying him, and then the ground once more.

“Levi, please, answer me. Please. Levi... what were you––how––oh god, what happened––”

Another voice, calmer, harder:

“Eren, we don’t have time for this. We need to leave. Who’s this person?”

_Eren… that’s right..._

“He’s––he’s important. Levi, can you hear me?”

Another voice, careful:

“Eren, Mikasa is right. They’ll be here soon. We can’t stay here. They’ll capture us all.”

“I can’t leave him! He came here because of me! This is my fault… I need to save him.”

 _This is not right… This is not how it was supposed to go. It is my turn to save_ him.

The darkness is giving, he can make out shapes, a face––a face full of dirt and blood and regret––it is Eren.

“Levi! Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“Eren… you… idiot.”

It is hard to breathe, his lungs ache with every breath.

Tears are spilling from Eren’s eyes; it’s all Levi can focus on. There are two individuals close behind Eren; they stand still and silent.

“Get out of here… you’ve saved your family. Go.”

“No. I’m not going anywhere without you."

There is no compromise in his voice; the eyes behind the tears are hard, locked with Levi’s; Levi sees nothing else but Eren and is warmed, content that he got to see him one last time…

Time… they have little of it, it is true, and Levi has less. He feels the strength leaving him, he is slipping back into that darkness, he can barely hold on…

“I’m dying, Eren,” it comes as a whisper. “Sick, for a long time.”

“What?"

“Dragonshead, the cure... too late.”

“Nononono, Levi, what are you saying––”

“Thank you… for everything,” he whispers, draws an unsatisfying breath. “But you can’t save me, Eren.”

He wishes that he could say more, there is more he wants to say, so much more, but he does not have the strength to.

Eren’s hand is clasping his, refusing to let go.

“Levi––don’t you dare…”

Levi wants to laugh, but it would hurt to.

The warmth and comfort of Eren’s touch linger in the darkness.

It lingers a long time, longer than Levi can comprehend: Eren’s hand in his remains.

Eren’s voice, a mere whisper, but it is there; close to his ear, the touch of his lips as he gifts him with a promise:

_"I’ll be waiting for you. Come find me."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't forgotten about this story, i promise! it's just that im a working woman now and i find myself with less time and energy, as it goes. 
> 
> i suspect that there are two chapters left. 
> 
> i hope you like!


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